


Made This Way

by redwolffclaw



Series: I've Lived It Both Ways [3]
Category: Psych
Genre: Canon Expansion, Crime Scene Training, Divorce, F/M, Gen, Humor, Loss, Pre-Series, Teen Angst, Teen Gus, Teen Shawn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redwolffclaw/pseuds/redwolffclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School is hell for anyone but between police training, friendship woes, and family problems, Shawn Spencer has more to deal with than the average teen. How much can one eccentric prodigy take? </p>
<p>Sequel to Born This Way</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Submission Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to Aakira who is the ultimate beta reader.
> 
> Getting down teenage Shawn took a bit of work. I figured there was some point where he turned from charming underachiever to jaded smartass and it took a lot to get him that way. His later teen years were not pretty psychologically and I am going to do my best to tell how he was made into the lovable psychic we all know. 
> 
> I will try to post one chapter every day, or every couple of days since this is complete and should not need updating thanks to the aforementioned Aakira. :D

**Made This Way**

 

" _You should be happy! You're the one that made me this way..."_ \- Shawn Spencer

 

**Chapter 1- Submission Impossible**

**Santa Barbara** **August 1992-**

            “Shawn! Wait up!” Gus called after his friend, jogging to catch up with him. Shawn stopped and waited until Gus was within ten feet before he started walking again. “Hey!” The other boy whined.

            Sighing, the frustrated teen finally stopped so Gus could catch him. It was their first hour at Leland Bosseigh High School as freshmen and Gus was already a nervous neurotic mess. Shawn had rushed ahead after getting their schedules because if he heard any more whining from his best friend he was going to scream. “What Gus?”

            Panting, Gus held up a finger to signal “one sec” while he caught his breath.

            “Look what happens. We miss one summer of baseball and you get out of shape.” Shawn smirked. He had been way too busy this summer with his dad to even think about going into sports, and Gus didn't want to play baseball without him.

            Standing up straight again, Gus defended himself, “I’m not out of shape Shawn! I just ate. You know I get winded after I eat.”

            Shawn rolled his eyes. “Okay fine.” He knew he wasn’t going to win that argument with Gus. His friend had more excuses up his sleeve than Milli _and_ Vanilli put together. Changing the subject, he noticed the paper in his friend's hand and craned his neck to see what was on it. “Hey, what classes do you have?”

            Gus pulled the paper closer to him before Shawn was able to get a glimpse and memorize it. He was apprehensive about showing it to his friend. "Why do you care?" He asked evasively.

            "C'mon Gus, you don't need to be embarrassed. Remedial classes are just a way of catching up to the rest of us." Shawn knew the statement would piss Gus off just enough to get him to show the schedule. He didn't understand why his best bud was being so secretive.

            Glaring, Gus spat out, "I _don't_ have remedial classes Shawn! See?" He held up the paper.

            Shawn looked at it. Besides a couple classes they shared in the morning, most of Gus' schedule consisted of advanced placement courses that Shawn figured were most likely the his parent's doing. "Man! We only have two classes together? That isn't fair! We need to stage a revolt!" Shawn turned to storm towards the office before Gus stopped him.

            "Quit it Shawn!" Gus scolded. "My parents wanted me in these classes. They give extra credit and I might even be able to skip a grade if I take enough of them." He smiled proudly.

            Shawn looked at him in horror. "Skip a grade!? That means you'll leave me behind! This is the worst thing ever!" Now Shawn was whining too.

            "I'm sorry Shawn, there's nothing I can do. I tried to talk them out of it but you know how they treat me..." Gus lowered his voice, mocking his father. " _We hear you son._ " His voice returned to normal, "Then they do whatever they want anyway." He felt bad at the hurt look on Shawn's face and tried to cheer him up. "We still have the first two classes together, and we can see each other after the other ones."

            Shawn looked up from his pout. "Yeah I guess." The bell went off signaling the five-minute warning before class started. "Let's get going."

            The usual spring in Shawn's step had vanished. He felt like Gus was abandoning him, and until that moment, he'd never realized how much that hurt. _If Gus continues in all those advanced placement classes we might be in a completely different grade! Then we'll_ never _see each other!_

With all the training Henry had been forcing on him lately, the only time Shawn had to hang out with Gus was when he dragged him along on one of his dad's expeditions. While going over how sucky life would be without anyone to talk to, a thought occurred to Shawn. If Gus _passed_ the classes, he would be getting the extra credits for advanced placement. If he didn't pass, they wouldn't be split up. An idea began to form.

            When they were almost to the classroom, Gus looked over at Shawn expecting that he would still be upset about the news. Gus was more than a little disturbed to see the wide and mischievous smile plastered on his friend's face.

\--------------------------------

**Santa Barbara** **October 1992-**

            It had already been almost five weeks and Shawn figured his plan was going perfectly. On nights when he knew Gus had a test, he made sure to find some way to rob him of sleep or interrupt his constant studying. The best, in Shawn's opinion, was probably the night he was digging in his closet and found his old Walkie Talkie and remembered the mate was still stuck in Gus’ wall. He didn't know for sure if the trick would work, but he pulled out the old "Wilting Flower" ghost shtick and made spooky noises for about ten minutes. Afterwards Shawn figured he had freaked Gus out enough to make him lose at least a couple hours of sleep and went to bed himself thinking of victory.

            Unfortunately for Gus, the batteries were barely functioning on the Walkie Talkie after two years in the wall, and all he heard were the words "Wilting Flower" followed by squealing sounds of the Walkie Talkie dying. It sounded a lot like pained screams and moans of a wandering ghost to the terrified boy. This went on for about an hour until the batteries finally died out completely. Gus' parents found him the next morning stuffed in the corner of the room clutching his He-Man pillow. He hadn't slept a wink all night.

            Phase two of Shawn's plan included destroying any and all homework belonging to Gus that he could lay his hands on. This didn't last too long because he could only 'accidentally' throw away, crumple, rip, or burn Gus' homework so many times before his friend started to get suspicious. From then on, Gus hadn't let him anywhere near his assignments, not even to borrow it for himself. This plan, as good intentioned as it was, put a huge strain on their relationship.

            The suspicious behavior was not lost on Henry. He'd overheard one too many conversations containing the words "Shawn", "homework", and "completely ruined".

            One afternoon during one of Shawn's weekly police ride-alongs that had started the summer before, Henry decided to ask his son about it. "Shawn, you and Guster have been arguing about school a lot lately. Care to tell me what's going on buddy?"

            Shawn tried to think fast and work up a plausible excuse, but apparently, he took too long. His dad cut him off the moment he opened his mouth.

            "Don't even try to lie your way out of this one Shawn. Cut the BS and tell me the truth for once," Henry ordered sternly.

            Sighing in defeat Shawn admitted what he had been doing. "Gus is in advanced placement at school. If he gets good enough grades and enough credits, he says he'll be able to skip a grade."

            Getting the point Henry added, "And you're afraid that he will leave you behind?"

            "YES!" Shawn stated angrily. "How could he do that to me? It's so unfair!" He slumped in the seat and pouted. Shawn’s eyes flicked to the side, "That guy just ran a stop sign," he grumbled.

            Henry turned on his lights and proceeded to pull the car over. While doing so he kept talking, "Shawn, Gus isn't doing _anything_ to you. He's taking the opportunity presented to him and running with it. He's doing his best, and what do I always tell you?" Henry asked as he unbuckled to leave the car.

            "Always do your best." Shawn mumbled.

            "That's right. Now wait here, our conversation isn't over." Henry paused and then asked, "Call in the plates for me would you?"

            Shawn nodded and watched his dad ticket the driver. "This is Detective Henry Spencer's car. Could you run California plate five, Lima, Victor, Foxtrot, eight, eight, three. Over." Shawn spoke into the handset        "Hey there, Shawn." The operator greeted him. "Out on your weekly ride?"

            Shawn recognized the operator as Lindsay. She was a pretty woman who always waved to him in the station. "Yeah, he has a guy stopped right now."

            "Okay, give me a moment while I run that for you."

            As Shawn waited he thought about what his dad said. He started to feel bad about what he was doing to Gus. Shouldn't he be happy his friend was doing well? Lindsay came back with the results, interrupting his thoughts.

            "Shawn, tell your dad right away that this guy is wanted in connection with a few robberies in San Francisco. He may be armed," she warned.

            "Got it!" Shawn unbuckled and sauntered up to his dad calmly, trying not to arouse suspicion from the perp in the car.

            Henry noticed Shawn's approach. "Shawn I told you to stay in the car." The person in the vehicle had been acting a bit shifty and he didn't want his son to end up getting hurt.

            "Sorry Dad, I just needed to stretch my legs! I get bored sitting in the car." Making sure the perp in the car couldn't see what he was doing, Shawn tapped his dad's gun and widened his eyes. He hoped his dad would understand what he was trying to tell him.

            Getting the point, Henry played along with Shawn's excuse. "I'll stop somewhere in a little bit. Now get back in the car like I told you!" Once his son returned safely to the car, Henry pulled his gun. "Get out of the vehicle now!"

            Luckily for Shawn, the arrest was just enough make his dad to forget to talk to him afterwards. It did give him some time to think though, he decided, he was being a bit unreasonable and would stop sabotaging Gus. He would have to think of something else to keep Gus from leaving him behind. He just didn't know what it would be.

\-----------------------------------

            Two weeks later, Shawn's relationship with Gus had improved again since he had given up on the plan to sabotage his friend. The boys had just come home from school and were going to spend the afternoon playing video games in Gus' room in a rare reprieve from police training with Henry.

            "Dude, I get to be Mario!" Shawn called climbing the steps to the Guster's house.

            Gus whined, "Shawn, you always play Mario. I always get stuck playing Luigi."

            Smiling slyly Shawn stated, "If you're sick of Luigi you could always play the princess. I promise I'll go easy on you man. You know I would never hit a lady, even with turtle shells." Shawn received a punch in the arm for the comment. As they entered the house, both of Gus' parents were standing in front of the stairs waiting for them. Neither looked happy.

            "What's wrong Dad?" Gus asked, puzzled.

            "Your mid-semester grades showed up today young man. Do you expect us to turn a blind eye to this?" Bill held up his son's report card.

            _What have I done!?_ Shawn chastised himself. He started to panic that he had completely ruined Gus' chances of advancing in school, ruined his future because he was being selfish. Shawn looked at the report card to see how badly he messed up, and was suddenly confused. The only thing he saw was a card full of A's and one lonely B in AP Math.

            Gus felt sick to his stomach. He had gotten a B! He had _never_ gotten a B. "Mom, Dad, I can explain." Gus knew some of it was Shawn's fault for distracting him, and apparently his parents knew too. He was afraid of what was coming but also knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

            "You are grounded Burton. I am very disappointed in you." Bill admonished his son. "No more video games or hanging out with Shawn until your grades improve." Gus looked at his friend in distress.

            Shawn's face scrunched. "But Mr. Guster, it was just a B."

            Gus' eyebrows shot up. He knew Shawn had said the wrong thing. Bill looked at the young man angrily, "Just a B? Just because you are okay with mediocrity doesn't mean our son has to be." He pulled Gus further into the house and away from Shawn. "Let’s go young man." Turning to Shawn who was still standing at the threshold in complete shock, he glared. "You know the way out Shawn."

            Finally able to move again, Shawn glanced at Gus' mom and saw the sad but determined look on her features. Shawn could tell she and her husband had discussed this before he and Gus had shown up. Nodding and turning around, Shawn trudged down the two sets of steps to the curb before looking back. He kept hoping that Gus would rush after him saying his parents changed their mind, but it never happened. His stupid idea had cost him his best friend.

\-------------------------------

            That night when Shawn didn't come downstairs for dinner, Maddie realized that something must be wrong. Ascending the stairs and gently knocking on her son's door, she called out, "Goose, dinner is ready." Hearing no answer, she walked into the room. Shawn lay curled up in a ball on his bed hugging his pillow. He didn't move as his mom came in the room and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Shawnie, what's wrong?"

            Shawn sniffed, trying to clear his sinuses. He had been crying for the last hour since leaving the Guster's. If it had been his dad coming into his room Shawn never would have given away that he had been emotional but his mom was a different story. He was suddenly very glad that his dad was working late. "The Gusters don't want me hanging out with Gus anymore."

            "Oh, baby. Why not? You guys have been friends for so long." Maddie couldn't understand why this would happen so suddenly.

            Turning around to face his mom he explained, "Gus is taking classes that will let him skip a grade if he passes. I was dumb and thought if I could sabotage his grades, he wouldn't leave me behind. I _know_ it was dumb, but... I didn't want to be alone." Shawn suppressed a sob. "They got his grades back today and he got a B. His parents knew it was my fault and they told me that I was mediocre."

            Maddie was suddenly very angry. _How dare they!?_ She thought spitefully, then her psychologist training kicked in and she rationalized that they were only angry and worried for their own son. "You are _not_ mediocre Shawn. You deserve to have Gus as a friend and you know you made a mistake right?" Shawn nodded, wiping away tears. "I will see what I can do to talk to them," she promised.

            Shawn appreciated his mom's help but knew it would be in vain. "It won't matter anyway. Gus is going to leave me behind. I spent weeks trying to lower his grades and he got a flipping B! A B Mom. It's useless." He grabbed his pillow and pressed it against his face, screaming into it. His mom had taught him to use this coping mechanism whenever he was angry.

            Grabbing the pillow, Maddie pulled it away from his face. "There is something you can do Shawn." He looked at her hopefully. "You're a smart boy. Have you ever heard the phrase, 'If you can't beat them, join them'?"

            Shawn nodded, starting to get where his mom was going with this.

            Maddie smiled. "Join him Shawn. You know you can do it. If his friendship means that much to you, get into those classes and skip a grade with him. I will help you but it's up to you how much you want to try. You have to ask yourself if Gus' friendship is worth fighting for." She laid her hand on Shawn's shoulder and rubbed it a bit. "You could also show that cranky Bill Guster a thing or two about mediocrity while you're at it." She was happy to see her son smile at the remark. Realizing that the ball was now in Shawn's court, Maddie rose from the bed. "Come down and eat when you are ready hon."

\-------------------------------------------------

            Shawn watched as his mom walked out and closed the door behind her, leaving him in darkness again with his thoughts. _Could I really do it?_ Shawn didn't have to ask himself that because he knew if he actually applied himself, he could. He had spent so much time fooling others that he'd almost fooled himself into doubting his own intellect. His mom was right. He would have to make the choice to save his friendship with Gus. Wiping all traces of tears away, he punched his pillow repeatedly in frustration. Once he was worn out, he sat up and stared at the door, contemplating going and getting something to eat. As he stood, he realized he'd been curled up in his room crying about not being able to see his friend. He rarely if ever cried about anything. If he actually felt bad enough about the situation to cry, it must be important to him. Gus' friendship _was_ important to him.

            Walking down the stairs into the kitchen, Shawn paused at the doorway. His mom looked up, gave him a smile, and grabbed his plate, placing it into the microwave. "You feeling better now Goose?"

            Nodding and taking a deep breath, Shawn asked, "Mom, what do I have to do to get into AP classes?"


	2. A Test of Character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of parental involvement in this one! Maddie to the rescue...
> 
> Note: "In Born This Way" I had Shawn's date of birth as April of 1978 so he'd be about fifteen in the story so far. I try to keep the dates straight on when things would have happened.

**Chapter 2-** **A Test of Character**

**Santa Barbara** **October 1992-**

            Shawn fidgeted nervously as he sat next to his mother in the principal's office. She was asking Mr. Leman if he would allow Shawn to take the tests so he could be eligible for the AP classes. That way he could finally get to spend more time with Gus. Watching her talk the principal into an arrangement, Shawn remembered the fight his parents had just for him to be able to _make_ this appointment at all.

            " _You put him up to this didn't you?" Henry demanded angrily. Shawn was listening to the raised voices from his room. Unfortunately, they had been having this same fight over his education since he was in Kindergarten._

_His mother was harder to hear. She didn’t often raise her voice during fights but her intensity made up for her lack of volume. "Yes, Henry. I gave him the idea. He was suffering. What else is he supposed to do? Burton is his only friend!"_

_"I realize that Madds, but skipping a grade is a huge step. You think Shawn will be ready for that?" Henry tried to reason with her._

_"Just_ talk _to him Henry. For once, see what_ he _wants to do. You might just be surprised." Maddie was practically begging._

            _"Fine." His dad stormed up the stairs. Henry found him sitting on the floor, organizing his records. "You know those aren't alphabetical." He pointed out._

_Shawn grumbled at the interruption. "They aren't supposed to be alphabetical." After he finished putting the last few in place, he turned around to face his father. "What do you want? Done fighting about me already? That was fast."_

_"Shawn, we weren't fighting about you." Henry tried to cover for himself. "We were just having a...discussion."_

_"Sure." Shawn stood up, sat on his bed, and waited for the inevitable lecture. He was used to the talks after their fights, especially since their fights were usually about him._

_"Shawn, are you—" Henry ran a hand through his hair and paced the room. "Do you really think you're ready for this?"_

_Shawn looked at him, dejected, "You don't think I can do it? Mom does."_

_Henry felt like he'd been slapped in the face. "Of course I think you can do it, kid..."_

_"Then let me!" Shawn shouted._

            "Shawn," Mr. Leman raised his voice to get the boy's attention. "It looks like you want to apply to be in multiple AP classes. Calculus, Biology, Chemistry, US History, and Psychology. Is that correct?"

            Shawn nodded, "Yes, sir." They were all the classes that Gus was in, except psychology. He figured it would be a little more useful to him than Microeconomics, the other class Gus had. Shawn doubted that he would be running a business any time soon and the class sounded super boring.

            The principal smiled. "I admire your ambition." He shuffled some papers. Shawn noticed that they were his transcripts. "However, based on your academic record, I don't think you are going to be able to keep up in the courses. I'm sorry, but the answer for now is no."

            Maddie sighed in defeat and rose from the chair. She had figured it was a long shot anyway. "Thank you Mr. Leman." She shook the principal's hand and turned to leave. Once she got to the door, she noticed that Shawn had not moved. "Shawn, let's go," she prodded, afraid how disappointed and depressed he would be over this.

            Shawn still did not move. He stared at the principal with a fierce gaze that made the older man squirm in his chair.

"Is there anything else, Shawn?" He asked nervously.

            Shawn's face was unreadable as he stated, "Mr. Leman, if you don't let me take the tests to get into the classes, I will tell everyone about your affair."

            Maddie gasped at Shawn's blatant disrespect.

            "What?" Mr. Leman looked furious. "Get out of my office young man!"

            Shawn stood his ground. "No. I'm just asking for a chance. That's all."

            "You have no proof of your accusations! Why would I help you now, after your behavior here?" Mr. Leman demanded.

            Maddie tried to grab her son's arm and drag him out. "Shawn, we need to go now."

            Shrugging her off, Shawn continued. He pointed at a small piece of paper on Mr. Leman's desk. "That receipt matches the new broach that the receptionist is wearing. If it were just a business gift, you would have used a credit card, not cash. Especially with how much it costs. You didn't want a paper trail."

            "That's still not enough proof," Mr. Leman stated, much less confident than before.

            Shawn knew he was close to breaking the man. Glancing at the ring on his finger, Shawn asked, "Your wife, has she handed you the divorce papers yet?"

            _Who is this kid?_ Mr. Leman wondered in disbelief, now visibly pale.

            By the look on the principal’s face, Shawn figured the answer was 'yes'. "I saw you leaving a couple weeks ago. You were taking your ring off as you left work. Seems a bit backwards don't you think?" Shawn smirked. “Now, who would take off their ring _before_ going home?"

            Maddie realized what her son was getting at. "Someone who was already separated, but didn't want people to know about it. He has to keep up an image."

            Shawn winked at his mom. "Exactly! So, I guess technically, you can't really be considered having an affair, but you do want to keep your relationship with the receptionist and your separation a secret until you are officially divorced. It would cut down on the scandal." Shawn leaned over the desk and raised an eyebrow. "You know how teachers talk. You don't want parents to find out that the principal of their children's school is setting a bad example, do you?"

            Mr. Leman collapsed into his office chair. He put his head in his hands, thinking his reputation was about to be ruined.

            Still leaning over the desk Shawn said softly, "I promise I won't say anything if you let me take the tests. I am not asking for a free pass, just a chance to prove I _can_ do this." Shawn stood up straight and waited for Mr. Leman’s answer. He started to worry at the storm of emotions flashing across the principal's face. Rage, betrayal, sadness, then more rage.

            Maddie was practically wringing her hands by the time he answered. "Okay, Shawn. _One_ chance. If you pass, I'll put you through to the classes, but if you don't, you will stay where you are. Either way, you will keep your mouth shut. Understood?"

            Shawn nodded vigorously and after setting up a test time, he left the principal's office practically skipping. As soon as they were outside the school, Shawn jumped up and down and hugged his mom in triumph.

            Maddie hugged her son back. As they broke apart she asked, "Goose, how did you figure all that out?"

            Shawn shrugged and looked down. "It's stuff dad taught me," he said timidly, knowing how much his mom didn’t approve of it.

            She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything else about the subject, despite being incredibly impressed by her son. “Okay, Goose, let’s go help you study so you can show that principal who’s boss.”

            Grinning, Shawn followed his mom to the car.

\-----------------------------------

            Every free moment she had, Maddie helped Shawn study for his test. They had scheduled the test for next week to give Shawn the time he needed to study. Shawn had tried to talk to Gus and tell him the good news but he was still on the Gusters’ crap list and wasn’t allowed to see his friend at home. Besides some sad looks in his direction, Gus avoided him at school too. Without Gus though, Shawn had a lot more time, and will, to study hard.

            One afternoon, while Maddie was quizzing her son on some of the psychology questions he would need to know for the test, Shawn asked, “Mom, what's it like to be a psychologist?”

            Maddie was taken aback at the question. Shawn had never really asked her about her job before. “Well, it’s a bit like any other profession I guess, but I get to talk to _a lot_ of people. Mostly police officers like your father. I get to assess how fit they are mentally, and offer them counseling if they need it.” Maddie paused, and her features turned solemn. She put her arm around Shawn and squeezed gently. “Police officers see some horrible things, Goose. Even the toughest officers have trouble coping sometimes, no matter what they say. I’m just afraid that one day, if you do become a police officer, you will see something terrible that you won’t be able to forget.”

            Shawn loved that she said _if_ he became an officer. His mother had never pressured him the way his father had, so it was a lot easier to relax around her. “I’ll be okay Mom, don’t worry about me.” He gave her a reassuring smirk and a shoulder bump.

            She smiled at his attempt to comfort her and went back to quizzing him. Shawn had done extremely well with anything having to do with math, which had surprised her since it had been his worst subject, or so she thought. Maddie loved seeing her son finally apply himself to something. She started to wonder if this was why Henry pushed him so hard. So that he could feel pride in his son’s abilities, and maybe even to have something in common with Shawn. As she watched her son flip quickly through each book they had gotten from the library, Maddie figured she had started to understand her husband’s motivations a little better.

\---------------------------------------

            The bustle of the SBPD was usually a comforting normal for Shawn, since he had practically grown up in the place. Familiar faces and high fives were common and he normally loved to bask in the attention. Today, however, was anything but comforting and normal. He was drained, mentally and physically, from studying. He was also regretting the fact that he had promised his dad that the extra work he had been doing for school wouldn't affect his training, because it definitely was.

            “Okay Shawn, what is the ten-code for a bomb threat?”

            “10-89,” Shawn replied tiredly, his head buried in a thick police procedures manual. After about a month of reading, he was about three quarters of the way through it. He figured he would have been done with it if his dad would stop distracting him with random questions every minute.

            “What is a 10-52?”

            Shawn sighed, “Ambulance needed.”

            “Hey there. How is the boy wonder doing?”

Shawn looked up, hearing the familiar voice. “Hi Uncle Lou.”        

Lou Gamble pulled up a chair next to Shawn and looked him over. “Boy, you look more tired than a hamster stuck on a motorized running wheel.” He laughed at his own joke.

Shawn’s face scrunched in confusion. His father’s partner always had a quirky sense of humor.

            Not looking up from his own work, Henry grumbled, “He’s studying for advanced classes.” He wasn’t happy about Shawn going into those classes in the first place, he was even less happy now that Shawn was so worn out from studying it was affecting his police training. The only reason he tolerated it was the hope that once the competency tests were over, Shawn would be able to focus again.

            “I’m sure he will ace every one of them.” Lou leaned over and gave Shawn a high five before looking over his shoulder at a couple other detectives walking by. One of them flicked his head in a ‘come here’ motion. “Be right there Jerry,” he called. Turning back to Shawn, Lou ruffled the boy’s hair, and then followed the other detectives down the hall.

            As Shawn watched him go, his dad pointed to the book in his hands. Rolling his eyes, Shawn got back to his memorizing, which only lasted a few minutes before he fell asleep in the chair.

            Henry noticed immediately, but didn’t have the heart to wake his exhausted son. Instead, he slipped the book out of Shawn's hands and draped his son's jacket over him. “Sleep tight, kid.”

\----------------------------------

            Shawn stared wearily at the questions on the exam paper. Some of them he knew instantly, others took a bit of time to remember. Between drills on procedures and test cramming, he had a lot of information to sift through to find the answers he needed. This frustrated the heck out of him. The fact that Mr. Leman had personally taken it upon himself to oversee the test didn’t help Shawn's stress levels either. Taking a deep breath, he put his hands to his head in an effort to sit still and concentrate on each answer while repeating a mantra, “Do it for Gus.”

            Overall, it took him a lot longer than he wanted to finish the test, but he did so with five minutes to spare. Mr. Leman took his test and immediately started checking it with the answer key. As the principal read, Shawn could tell by his features that he was getting more and more surprised the further he graded.

            Finally, after twenty minutes of checking, re-checking, triple checking, and head scratching, the principal put Shawn’s test down on the table. “Shawn, do you mind telling me how in the world you just got a perfect score on this test, when you almost failed more than one class last year?”

            Knowing the jig was up Shawn looked Principal Leman in the eye. “I want you to imagine for a second that you were smart.” Mr. Leman looked shocked and insulted at the statement, wanting to say something before Shawn stopped him with a raised hand. “I am talking really, _really_ smart. Genius smart. Then imagine that when people found out about it, they either treated you like you were the second coming, wanting you to prove over and over again how good you were till you couldn’t stand it. Or they treated you like you were a complete freak whose life they figured they needed to make unbearable purely on principle. Now, if you _were_ that smart, how long would it be before you realized it was better to pretend to be just like everyone else?”

            Realization came slowly to Mr. Leman. He looked at Shawn, really looked at him for probably the first time since meeting him two months ago when the boy first came to the high school. Standing in front of him was probably one of the smartest kids he had ever met, but being so smart apparently made Shawn completely miserable. “Why are you doing this now Shawn?” He asked curiously.

            “Because when I was a freak, someone else was always there to be a freak with me. I plan to keep it that way.” Shawn smiled innocently. “So, a deal’s a deal. I can get into the AP classes now right?”

            Principal Leman huffed out a breath. “Alright Shawn, but know this—if you fall behind in any of the classes, act out, or distract any of the other students, I will put you right back in mainstream classes so fast your head will spin.”

            Shawn gulped. “Got it.”

            “Now go tell your parent’s the good news. I’m sure they will want to hear it.” He handed Shawn his test back.

            Snatching the test, Shawn started to run for the door but stopped. He turned around and looked at the principal. “You know, she really likes you.”

            Mr. Leman’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What? Who?”

            “The receptionist.” Shawn replied. “I can tell she really likes you.”

            “Really?” Mr. Leman’s features brightened. “How?”

            Shawn raised his hand to his chest, where a broach would be. “She rubs the broach you gave her a lot and smiles. If she just liked the broach, she would look at it when she did it.” Shawn smirked. “She doesn’t look at the broach though she looks towards your office, towards you.” With that, Shawn left the meeting room, making sure to wave at the receptionist as he passed.

\-------------------------------------

            Gus adjusted the heavy backpack on his shoulder as he entered the Chemistry Lab. They were going to have a discussion on chemical compounds today and Gus had really been looking forward to it. But since his classes this morning, he had not been able to focus on anything except Shawn’s odd behavior. Even though his parents had forbidden him to speak to Shawn for the last week and a half, Gus still enjoyed his company. _Technically, smiling at Shawn was not exactly speaking, right?_ Gus reasoned.

            This morning though, in both classes he shared with Shawn, his friend had refused to look at him or acknowledge his existence. It really hurt his feelings and he wondered if Shawn had finally given up on their friendship. The other boy had never been a patient person and Gus figured he might have gotten bored waiting.

            As the class of ten students settled in and took their seats, the teacher stepped up and made an announcement. “Everyone, I know this is a bit odd but we need to welcome a new student to our class.”

            Excited whispers broke out. _Is it a transfer?_ Gus wondered. They didn’t usually let kids in half way through the semester without a good reason.

            “Class, I want you to all welcome Shawn Spencer,” the teacher said happily as Shawn strutted in the classroom.

            The excited whispers stopped. No one who knew him could believe that Shawn had made it into the class, especially his best friend Gus, but there he was big as life. He gave the class a small wave before finding a seat, conveniently near Gus.

            As Shawn reached the seat kitty-corner to his, Gus turned around and hissed quietly, “Shawn! What are you doing here?”

            “Ssshhh, Gus. Have you no respect for the teacher? Class just started.” Shawn playfully chastised his friend. Another glare from Gus made Shawn’s resolve break. “Fine, I’ll tell you later, if you’ll even talk to me.” Shawn slathered on the guilt.

            “You know that’s not my—” Gus was interrupted when the teacher cleared her throat. “Sorry.” He mumbled before facing the front, but not before catching one more glimpse of Shawn’s sly look. _I’ll find out how he pulled this one off. He had to have planned this somehow. Why?_ The answer came quickly to Gus. There was only one reason that Shawn would possibly get into these classes. Shawn missed him. Gus smiled inwardly at the fact that he had a best friend again. And if his parents still didn’t forgive Shawn after all he must have gone through to get into this class, _Well,_ Gus thought snidely, _they can just suck it._


	3. Hail to the Chief

**Chapter 3- Hail to the Chief**

**Santa Barbara** **: April 1993-**

"To Chief Wilkins!" A voice rang out from the crowd of tipsy officers. Catcalls whistles and yells of "To the Chief!" followed. They were celebrating the official retirement of Chief Herb Wilkins and the whole precinct had shown up at Tom Blair’s Pub. The older man had at least five more good years left in him, but had decided to take an early retirement.

            Henry, who was in a sour mood, merely raised his glass and muttered, "Herb." He had worked with Wilkins for almost fifteen years and considered him a good man, which was the only reason he had shown up.

            Two weeks prior, Chief Wilkins had announced his retirement to the station and afterward had taken Henry into his office to speak to him privately. It was then the chief told Henry he had picked Head Detective John Fenich to succeed him. Henry was surprised and happy for Fenich and couldn't think of anyone else, besides himself, who deserved the job.

            _"That is great for John, but what do you need me for Herb?" Henry asked._

_Chief Wilkins leaned back in his chair with a knowing smile. "Henry, you are one of the most dedicated and competent detectives on this force."_

_"Thank you, sir." Henry was flattered by the praise._

_The chief continued, "And in that regard I am offering you John Fenich's old position of Head Detective."_

            Henry chugged a bit of his beer as he watched the festivities. He would have been joining in himself if it hadn't been for the reception that his news had earned him at home. Sure, Shawn was happy enough for him and had said so. It was his wife's reaction that had taken all of the joy out of his new position.

            _"Henry, you are never going to be home! We barely see each other as it is and who is going to watch out for Shawn? I need to travel a lot for my own job and you know we can't leave him alone if we want to come back to an intact house!" Maddie had complained._

_He was disappointed at her reaction and had gotten even more upset with her than he should have. "But Madds, it is a huge honor to be given this job, especially after only four years as a detective! If you weren’t gone so much, maybe we wouldn’t have to have Shawn alone…”_

_Maddie’s face darkened, “What do you expect me to do? Stay at home all day and clean the house?”_

            Maddie's words repeated in his head. They really didn’t see a lot of each other and more often than not when they did they were barely civil. Most of the fights were about either work or Shawn and had been escalating each time. _Maybe we should try couple’s counseling._ Henry wondered if that would even solve anything, but he loved Maddie and really wanted to try to fix things between them.

            “Hey there head detective!”

            “I heard the news. Congratulations!”

            “Way to go Henry!”

            Henry’s co-workers were giving him a lot of praise and most were happy that he had gotten the position. Henry nodded and thanked them but his heart wasn’t really in it. He barely even noticed John Fenich sit down next to him, cross his arms, and give him a faux stern look.

            “Now Henry, as head detective I expect you to set a good example for the others, even if that means smiling every once in a while.”

            Looking up, Henry smirked as John winked in jest. “Ah, I’m sorry John…er uh, chief.”

            “Let’s just keep it _John_ out of the station.”

            “Alright, John. It’s just…my wife. She thinks because of my new promotion she will have to give up her career to watch over Shawn.” Henry shook his head sadly.

            John gave the detective a puzzled glance. “Shawn’s fifteen now isn’t he? Shouldn’t he be able to be at home by himself a bit?”

            “You obviously don’t know my son. As good at observations as he is, he is that much worse at common sense.” Henry took a long swig of his beer.

            “I’ve seen him around. Seems like a good kid.”

            Henry agreed, “He is for the most part. He just lacks focus. Always has, but lately, I’m surprised. He never used to do well in school but damned if he didn’t put his nose to the grindstone this year for his friend. Went from a C student to top of his class.” He scoffed, “If only I could get him to do that with the detective training I’ve been giving him.”

            John leaned back and smirked. “From what I hear, he's a natural.”

            “Yeah, but talent will only get you so far. Shawn has to learn that discipline and focus will get him a lot further in life.”

            John looked like he was thinking about something for a moment, but by the time Henry had noticed, the moment had passed and John’s smile was back. “So, Henry, about being a good role model for the detectives…I think they're starting to do shots. How about we show those young’uns how real detectives drink?”

            Henry gave a hearty chuckle. “You think setting a good example for the detectives is to watch their superiors get wasted?”

            “You only live once Spencer.” He winked at Henry and walked towards the bar yelling, “A round of shots for my officers!”

            _He’s going to be an interesting chief._ Henry thought mirthfully before getting up and finally joining the group.

\-----------------------------------

            Shawn huffed as he sat bored to death on the couch. It was only a week after his dad had gotten the head detective position, and Shawn had barely seen him at all in that time. Not that Shawn had a huge problem with that, it meant less training and more time to study for school, but after a few days, he had to admit to himself that he missed him. Shawn decided to ride his bike down to the precinct and surprise him.

            It was only a twenty-minute bike ride from the house to the precinct, and Shawn rode as fast as he could. He loved the feel of the wind on his face as he raced down the side streets.

            When he reached the station, he saw that his dad’s unmarked car was not in the lot. It was a bit of a letdown, but Shawn hadn’t really expected his dad to be there, so he went into the station to wait at his dad’s desk.

            Thirty minutes later, his dad hadn’t shown up yet. Shawn was getting impatient and dug through the desk to find some loose candy. While munching on a Snickers bar, he noticed that the new Chief of Police was watching him with amusement. He knew John Fenich by sight, but had never really talked to him because he was a busy man, the same way his father was now busy all the time.

            Chief Fenich approached Shawn with a grin. “You’re Henry’s boy right?” Shawn nodded and the chief extended his hand. “John Fenich. I don’t believe we’ve met, officially. I've heard good things about you.”

            Shawn blushed. “Thanks.”

            “You know, if you're looking for something to do, I have something you might want to check out.” He motioned for Shawn to follow him into one of the glass enclosed meeting rooms. Lying on the table was a thick packet and a pencil. “I figure since you're waiting anyway, you could try something different.”

            Shawn walked over to the table and looked down at the packet. He immediately noticed that the cover sheet was missing. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the packet.

            Chief Fenich tried to look innocent. “Oh, it’s just something to pass the time while you wait for your dad. I had an extra copy and figured you might find it interesting. I’ll be back in a bit, son. Just see what you can make of it okay?” Beaming, he left Shawn to his own devices.

            Looking down at the paper, Shawn puzzled at the chief’s actions. _This is obviously some kind of test._ He looked over the questions. They seemed simple enough. It was the same stuff his dad had been forcing him to memorize for almost the last year. Once he realized that fact, he pushed the test away and got up from the chair. He didn’t want anything to do with it.

            While pacing around the room, he happened to glance in the garbage and saw a single crumpled piece of paper with large lettering on it. He reached in and pulled it out, un-crumpling the white sheet— **DET: Detective Entrance Test**.

            Shawn put two and two together, realizing it was the missing cover sheet for the packet. _Why would the Chief want to give me this?_ Shawn knew all about the detective test. His dad had studied for a long time to be able to get his score of 95.3. Shawn remembered it because his dad had framed the score sheet and put it on his desk.

            Curiosity and competitiveness getting the best of him, Shawn walked back to the table and decided to look at the test. Eyeing the front of the packet, he realized he knew the answer to all of the questions on that page. He picked up the pencil and sighed. “Might as well.” He figured if he did this and beat his dad he would have something to hold over his old man for once in his life. That thought kept Shawn focused as he spent the next hour and a half filling in the test.

\---------------------------------------

            Chief Fenich watched for a few minutes out of sight as Shawn pushed away the test and started to walk around the room. He grinned widely as the boy cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at the garbage can, pulling out the cover sheet for the test that he had left in the room. _Wow, that kid is fast,_ John mused. He watched as Shawn read the cover then head back to the packet, finally deciding to take a stab at it.

            Figuring his work was done, for now, he looked at the time. It was just after noon. He was expecting a group of Criminal Justice majors to stop by for a tour of the station. They were the brightest from their class. He had known one of them for several years, and had even encouraged the young man to become a police officer.

            A couple minutes later, five twenty-somethings came through the precinct doors. Chief Fenich walked over and greeted them.

“Hello, you must be the college group I have been waiting on.” John turned to the young man he knew and shook his hand. The young man was lanky—at least a head taller than any of the other students. He had black hair and piercing blue eyes. “It’s been a while, boy. How is school coming?”

            “Great sir.” The student said, eager to please. “I'm actually top of my class.” This earned him a few resentful glares from the other students.

            Chief Fenich smiled. “That’s great! Now, if you all will follow me I will show you around the station.”

            As they walked down the hallway, the young man continued to boast about his academic achievements. When they passed the windowed office, the student caught sight of Shawn through the glass. Catching the chief’s attention he asked, “What is a kid doing here?”

            “Oh, he's the son of one of our detectives. He hangs around here waiting for his dad once in a while.” Chief Fenich moved the group along.

            The student grumbled and looked back at Shawn. “I hope when I work here I won’t have to babysit a bunch of kids while I’m trying to work.”

            The chief heard the comment and shook his head. “I don’t think you have to worry about it, Carlton. Besides, if all goes well, you'll be working alongside that boy one day.”

\--------------------------------------

            A couple hours later, Chief Fenich entered the room where Shawn was waiting. “So, wasn’t so bad was it?” Shawn shook his head and watched as the chief picked up the packet. “Would you like me to have this graded for you?”

            Shawn almost said no. He didn’t want his father finding out about it if he failed. He could almost hear his voice in his head, _“I don’t care if it was just practice, you didn’t try hard enough, kid.”_

            Chief Fenich saw the uncertainty in Shawn’s eyes. “Tell you what. How about we keep this just between you and me?” He winked at Shawn. “I’ll even grade it myself. How about that?”

            _I have a feeling I'm really going to like this chief._ Shawn smiled back. He liked the chief’s laid back, friendly attitude and was sorry he hadn’t taken the time to talk to him before. “Yeah, that would be great.”

            “Okay son, give me a couple days and the next time I see you, I will let you know what you got. Deal?” He held out his hand.

            “Deal!” Shawn exclaimed, returning the handshake.

           

\----------------------------------------

            Later that week, Shawn and Gus sat cross-legged on the floor of Gus' room, surrounded by snacks while looking over their thick Calculus textbooks. Calculus was one of the hardest classes for Gus, and the easiest for Shawn, so they ended up spending a lot of time going over equations until Gus was positive he could ace the tests.

            Shawn ended up spilling the beans to Gus about the detective exam the day it happened. He learned the results just this morning—a perfect score. It was almost unheard of and Chief Fenich admitted he graded it more than once, just to be sure.

            It had been hours and the nervous Shawn was still voicing his concern about whether he should tell his dad about the score. “Gus, I am practically at the top of the class and my dad hasn’t even said ‘good job' to me. He doesn’t care if I do good in school, all he wants is for me to be a damn detective one day.”

            “It’s do ‘well’ in school Shawn.” Gus corrected automatically. “Besides, I think he _does_ care.”

            Shawn snorted. “Well he’d sure care if I ever started failing and if I tell him about the exam score I don’t think he will ever let me leave the station again. I'll be stuck there forever as the official hat counter.”

            “You know that’s right.” Gus agreed.

            “Gus, the point is, your parents practically threw a block party when your grades came in. My mom said ‘That’s great’ before walking out the door for work. You have a great support system. All I have is Chairman Meow.” Shawn pouted.

            Gus glared, offended at playing second fiddle to a feline. “You have more of a support system than your cat, Shawn. I happen to think you are doing amazing.”

            Shawn hung his head, glancing up with his big hazel eyes. “Thanks man. So, do you think I should tell him?”

            “I’ll leave that decision to you Shawn.” Gus reached down, took a handful of Cheetos, and shoved them in his mouth, causing Shawn to cringe in mock disgust.

            “Dude, you need to cut back on the snacks, or at least eat like a human being.”

            It took Gus about a minute to swallow the cheesy goodness in his mouth before replying. “You know quadratic equations make me hungry, now help me with this one…”

\--------------------------------------

            The next day, Shawn sat at the breakfast table playing with his toast. He was trying to work up the nerve to say something to his dad. Shawn didn’t doubt that Henry would be proud, after being angry he hadn't said anything about it in the first place. His biggest fear was that his dad would be _too_ proud.

            After Henry found out that Shawn could shoot, he turned that into a regimen of mandatory gun drills Shawn would have to pass just to spend a couple hours at an arcade, or go to a movie like normal kids do. Each skill his dad found out about seemed to be exploited to epic levels and Shawn was sick of it, but at the same time, he _really_ wanted to tell his dad that he beat his detective score. The conundrum left Shawn stuttering out half phrases at his dad over breakfast.

            “You know dad, um. It’s like this…well.”

            Henry sighed and looked at his son, “Look kid, just spit it out. What did you do?”

            Shawn rubbed his hands together and just as he found the confidence to say something, there was a knock at the door.

            “Who the hell can that be?” Henry got up and answered it. When he opened the door, there was no one there. “Damn kids.” He grumbled and started to close the door.

            Shawn caught sight of a brand new penny lying on the ground outside the door, head side up. “Dad, wait!” Shawn bounded out the door and picked it up.

            From behind the bushes next to the porch came a voice neither of them had heard in years. “Hey there Shawnie!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who it is at the door! 
> 
> Hope you liked the young Lassie, I couldn't help but put him in here somewhere!


	4. You Don't Know Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are Spoilers for Season 3 episode 4 "Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable." Also, there is a bit of tear Jerky-ness at the end. 
> 
>  
> 
> I loved Steven Weber as Jack in the episode and think it is horrible how they keep giving us these awesome and quirky family members for only one flipping episode.

**Chapter 4- You Don't Know Jack**

**Santa Barbara** **: April 1993**

            "Uncle Jack!" Shawn shouted as he ran to him and wrapped him in a big hug.

            "Shawninator!" Jack leaned over and caught Shawn in a tight embrace, patting him on the back for good measure. He stepped back and looked at his nephew. "Wow! You have gotten so tall. How long has it been?"

            Henry stepped forward, arms crossed. He gave his brother a cold, hard look. "Almost two years."

            At twenty-nine, Jack did not look his age. He had a wiry build and a sparkle in his eyes that made him look a lot younger than he was. Growing up, no one believed he and Jack were brothers at first glance. Besides the six-year age difference, Jack had their mother's features—brown hair, reminiscent of Shawn's, with a longer nose to match. Henry, on the other hand, had taken after their father—blond hair and hefty build. Henry rubbed his scalp and felt the thinning hair. _I have his tendency for baldness too,_ he thought bitterly. They both had light blue eyes though, which they had jokingly called "Spencer Blue" growing up.

            It looked to Henry like Jack hadn't bathed in a couple days, and the grin plastered on his brother's face failed to reach his eyes. That meant there was something wrong, as usual. His son might wear rose-colored glasses when it came to his uncle, but Henry knew Jack. His brother never came around without some kind of ulterior motive. "Why are you here Jackie?"

            "Henry, good to see you too. How is that lovely wife of yours?" The glare he got at that statement said it all. "Okay. Can I come in?"

            Henry moved out of the way and Jack entered the house.

            The detective watched as Shawn smiled and picked up the penny that was still laying on the ground. "What's special about this one?" He asked his uncle. The date on the penny was 1982. Each of the pennies Jack left had some sort of significance.

            "That, Shawn my boy, is one of the last pennies ever made that was solid copper. After 1982 they started only plating them." Jack made a beeline for the fridge and grabbed a beer, ignoring his brother's annoyed stare. "Anyway big bro, to answer your question, I came back to California to visit my family." He bowed with a flourish and popped open the cap on the beer. "I just got back from visiting dad in San Francisco. He says hi."

            "Sweet!" Shawn exclaimed. "Grandpa promised to take me on a tour of the city next time we go up." It had been almost two years since they'd had the time to go up and see the old man. San Francisco was only about six hours away but with both his parents working, it was hard to find any time. Shawn vowed when he got his driver's license he would go up there every weekend and keep his grandfather company.

            Jack felt a sadness at Shawn's words start to bubble to the surface. He recovered quickly and finished chugging his beer with a satisfied _ahhh..._ "Hey bro, since I'm in town only for a little while, would it be okay if I grabbed Shawn and Gus for lunch later?"

            "It's a weekday, they have school."

            Jack smiled wryly, "I'm sure they haven't taken away lunch hours since we went there, have they?"

            Shawn piped up, "We get lunch at about eleven thirty! C'mon Dad, we'll be back in time for class. I promise!" Jack put his face next to Shawn's and both sets of eyes pleaded with Henry.

            Henry gave in when both gave him pouty lips. "Fine!" He pointed at his brother, "You better have them back by the time class starts, or it won't happen again."

            "YES!"

            "WOO!"

            The pair high fived and pumped their fists.

            Henry glanced at his watch. "Okay Shawn! Out the door now, your bus should be waiting already."

            Shawn grabbed his backpack and flew out the door, with one more high five to his uncle. _Gus will be super excited!_ Gus loved it when Uncle Jack came to town because Jack always included him in their activities. Gus had an uncle of his own but when he came to visit, which was seldom, he seemed to treat Gus very condescendingly, and Gus hated that.

            An awkward silence descended on the kitchen after Shawn left. Jack glanced at his brother. Henry still had the ability to intimidate him just by crossing his arms and giving him _The Look._ "You know, you never really answered my question earlier. What are you doing here? It isn't just visiting family."

            After growing up in a family of cops, Jack was unnaturally good at lying and hiding his guilt, but for some reason, his brother was one of the only people who could see past the bull to the _real_ Jackie.

            Before Henry could give him the third degree, Jack figured it would be a good idea to make a strategic exit. "Okay, I'll see you later tonight. You _are_ inviting me to dinner, right?" Henry opened his mouth to reply but Jack was already at the door. "Great! See you then!" He flashed a big grin and left.

            Henry stared at the empty beer bottle before shaking his head and tossing it in the trash. If Jack was skirting the issue _that_ much, his situation must be pretty bad. He grabbed his coat and straightened his tie in the living room mirror before heading out himself. He wondered if he'd made the right decision about letting Jack take Shawn out for lunch, his brother had a habit of roping people into his problems...

\--------------------------------------------

            As promised, right at eleven thirty, Jack was waiting for the boys outside of their school. "Wow, sweet!" Shawn exclaimed when he saw what his uncle was riding—a fairly new Harley Davidson motorcycle.

            "Yep." Jack patted his baby, "Ain't she a beaut?"

            Gus hoped his eyes showed the dismay he was feeling at having to get on a motorcycle, "Uh, we don't have to ride on that, do we?"

            "Nah, I'm going to leave it here. There isn't room for three on it but if you want Shawn, we can go for a ride on it later." He gestured to the bike.

            Shawn had only ridden on a motorcycle once. One of the motorcycle cops had taken pity on him when he begged for a ride. His dad had grounded him for a week for riding on a "death trap." "Yeah! I would love to!"

            "Well alright then!" Jack hopped off and put his helmet on the seat. "Let's get some lunch and see if we have time afterwards to give you a ride."

            Grinning broadly, Shawn turned to Gus, "How awesome would I look on one of those?" Not waiting for Gus to answer, he followed his uncle at a fast pace. He wanted to finish as fast as he could to be able to go for a ride.

            Gus responded with a less than enthusiastic "Eh" and followed them down the street to their regular hang out. When Jack was in town, they always went to the same diner. It probably had the best shakes and burgers around, and Gus was in the mood for some good food.

\--------------------------------------------

            Shawn and Gus both ate and listened, spellbound by Jack's latest adventures. "So there I was, surrounded by ten, no, _twenty_ armed men telling me to drop the artifact and they wouldn't take my life."

            "Whoa!" Gus exclaimed and took another bite of his fries.

            Jack continued with a smile, "Needless to say, it was looking like a good option to cut and run, but lo' and behold!" He raised his hands in a wild gesture, "A miracle happened, my partner came out of nowhere with a Jeep scattering the armed men enough so I could hop in and make my escape!" He swept his hand mirroring the Jeep's movements, almost knocking over his drink in the process.

            "What happened to the artifact?" Shawn wanted to see the item that was so important that twenty guys wanted to kill for it.

            Jack leaned in, as if telling the kids a secret, "I hid it in a locker as soon as I got back to the US. I am the only one who knows where it is. When I'm sure they've stopped looking for me, I'll show you." The boys nodded in understanding.

            He didn't think of his storytelling as exactly _lying_ to the kids. He really had managed to capture an important artifact. It just happened that he'd captured it after breaking into a scientific team's excavation of an Egyptian tomb. He had gotten about a hundred feet away before five armed guards stopped him. His partner had bailed, taking their only means of escape, leaving him holding the bag _and_ the artifact. He'd spent a month in an Egyptian prison for his little stunt, but he figured Shawn didn't need to know that part. They had asked for an adventure story, so he gave them one.

            "Man, I wish my dad were as cool as you," Shawn lamented as he worked on finishing his meal.

            Jack stared at his nephew. The boy's hair, eyes, and nose were the spitting image of his own mother. He mused at how funny it was that features skipped generations and had given Henry a hard time about Maddie cheating on him. After all, how else could two blond haired blue-eyed people create a kid with brown hair and hazel eyes? His brother had almost punched him in his equally large nose for the comment before both realized there _was_ someone in the family that looked like Shawn. Their mother.

            It was still painful to think of his mother even nine years after her death. He was always the momma's boy, and proud of it. Contrary to what his father and brother believed, Jack did care about his family. He just had a hard time being around them after losing her. Now, he was going to have to deliver some more bad news to the family, but he didn't want to ruin everyone's day just quite yet.

            Shawn saw his uncle's eyes glaze over and go distant. "Jack?" He cocked his head. Was his uncle sad about something? "Uncle Jack!"

            Shaking his head, Jack noticed a hand in front of his face, waving for his attention. "Sorry there Shawnie. Got lost in the past for a while." He patted Shawn's arm reassuringly and looked at his watch. "Okay guys, let's split. I don't want my brother having a conniption fit over you missing any school."

            _Since when?_ Shawn wondered, sharing a look with Gus. Jack always used to take them out of school, posing as Shawn's father and heading to the fair, the race track, anywhere they wanted to go, so why not now? Shawn grew worried that there was something wrong.

            Seeing the doubt in his nephew's eyes, Jack thought up something quick. "I'll make it up to you Shawn, how about I pick you up from school and we go riding?"

            All traces of suspicion were gone as Shawn imagined how great it would be to ride home on a motorcycle. He just had to make sure his dad didn't find out. "Gus, will you be okay riding the bus by yourself? I know how much the bus monitor freaks you out."

            Gus' eyes narrowed, "She doesn't freak me out, I just don't like her perfume. You know my nose is sensitive." He pointed to his nose for emphasis, and ignored his friend's eye roll.

            "That settles it!" Jack announced with his usual bravado as he ushered the kids out of the restaurant and back to school.

\----------------------------------------

            Once school was over, Shawn waved goodbye to Gus and waited for Jack to come pick him up. As his uncle rolled up, a few people pointed and whispered as Shawn got on the bike. He waggled his eyebrows at a group of girls, but didn't get to see their reaction as Jack was already pulling away from the curb.

            "Hold on to my waist." Jack yelled over the roar of the bike and then sped up, heading down the street. Shawn noticed it was in the opposite direction of his house.

            "Where are we going?" Shawn shouted back. Jack didn't answer but continued driving. Shawn whooped and hollered as Jack sped up to give him a good ride.

            Ten minutes later, they pulled up to a grassy bluff on the outskirts of the city. Jack stopped and removed his helmet. "Come here. You have to see this view." He motioned for Shawn to join him.

            Still a bit concerned with Jack's weird behavior, Shawn tentatively followed him to a bench that overlooked the ocean. The blue expanse was astounding. Shawn was surprised that he had never seen this place before. "Wow, pretty."

            Jack nodded. "My mom used to bring us here all the time. I haven't been here since she died. I don't think your dad has either." He sat down and sighed before looking over at Shawn. "How have you two been getting along lately? He hasn't been too hard on you, has he?"

            Shawn smirked. "Only a lot. I haven't had this much down time since starting advanced classes in October."

            "See!" Jack exclaimed, "I always knew you were the bright one of the family." He rubbed the boy's head affectionately.

            "There's something else." Shawn sighed. Jack leaned forward and listened intently. "You know all the training and stuff dad's given me over the years?" His uncle nodded. "Well, the new chief noticed and he gave me the DET to see how well I would do."

            Jack knew what the DET was. It was a big deal to pass it but couldn't for the life of him understand why the chief would want to give it to a boy Shawn's age. "Yeah, and?" He prompted.

            "And... I aced it."

            A silence followed the statement as Jack took in what that meant. Not only did it mean that Shawn probably cheated to get that score—Jack wasn't angry at him for it, he would have done the same thing—but it also meant that when Henry found out about it he would either _know_ Shawn cheated or would make Shawn's life miserable with even more training. He now understood the kid's reluctance to say anything. "Wow, you know Shawn, I think you need to go with your gut on this one. I wouldn't say anything if I were you."

            Shawn relaxed. He knew Jack would understand and resolved never to let his father know about the test. "What was dad like when he was younger? Was he ever... I dunno, normal?"

            Jack huffed in amusement. Henry had always been a hard case growing up, but there were times Jack had seen him let loose. Laughing at the memory, he decided to share it. "There was this one time when I just turned fourteen, your dad was twenty. He had just married your mom a few months before. So he knocked on our door, and he was as drunk as I've ever seen him. I have no idea how he walked the three miles from your house to ours." He turned to Shawn, "You remember that old house right?"

            Shawn nodded. His grandpa and grandma had lived in Santa Barbara until after Jack moved out at nineteen, then they moved to San Francisco. He missed the days when he could visit them whenever he wanted.

            "So anyway, he comes stumbling into the house, drunk, and everyone meets him at the door, thinking something was wrong. He could barely speak and was crying. We all freaked out thinking something had happened to your mom, until he said three words..."

            Shawn was interested to hear what his dad had said but they were interrupted when sirens sounded behind them. They turned around and saw an unmarked cruiser heading up the road. Recognizing it as his dad's car Shawn muttered, "Uh oh."

            They stood and waited for Henry's approach, knowing that this was not going to end well for either of them.

            "What in the _hell_ were you thinking Jack?" Henry yelled at his brother after getting to the guilty looking pair. "You had me worried sick! One of the teachers called and said some guy on a motorcycle took Shawn! I have been looking for you for almost an hour!"

            Shawn didn't want his dad to be angry at Jack, so he tried to take the blame. "Dad wait! I asked him to pick me up from school and bring me here."

            Holding up a hand, Henry silenced his son. "Don't cover for him Shawn. There is no way you would know about this place, if it wasn't for _him_!" Henry pointed right at his younger brother's nose. "I'm taking my son now Jack. I can't believe I trusted you with him."

            "Look bro, I just picked him up and brought him here to talk okay? It's not like we ran off to Mexico or anything!" He defended himself.

            In a mocking tone Henry asked, "Oh, you brought him here to talk? Talk about what?"

            Jack bit his lip and looked shifty.

            Henry continued to rant. "Are you going to talk to him about how you owe me two thousand dollars for bailing you out of jail last year? Or are you going to talk to him about how you always come around when you need something? Which is it Jackie?"

            "I brought him here to tell him that his Grandpa is dying!" Jack unceremoniously blurted out. Both Henry and Shawn's face paled. Cursing his brother's temper, Jack explained. "I went up to San Francisco to see the old man and get a few bucks from him when I found out. Heart disease. The doctors give him a couple of months at most."

            Finding his voice, Henry demanded, "Why the hell didn't he tell us?"

            Jack rubbed a hand through his hair. He was angry when he found out the reason too but could understand why his dad had made the decision. "He remembered how mom's death was long and drawn out because of the cancer. He didn't want anyone to worry about him like that. You know how he is."

            The detective _did_ know how his dad was—stubborn as heck—just like himself, Jack, and Shawn. It was a Spencer curse. "Did he know you were coming up to tell us?" Henry's voice softened.

            "No. He made me promise that I wouldn't tell. The only reason I found out was I saw the medication bottles lying around in his house. He was going to go without letting us know at all." Jack felt a lot of betrayal at that and he was sure his brother did too. "I couldn't let you guys be in the dark about this. I came up here to tell Shawn myself, okay? I was going to tell you later."

            Shawn, who was silent the whole exchange, suddenly turned and ran to his dad's car. He didn't want either of them to see him cry. _How could grandpa say he was going to tour the city with me when he knew he was dying?!_ He slammed the car door and put his head in his hands.

            A minute later, Jack came into the car and sat next to him. They were silent for a while. Jack was never good at comforting people, but he figured it was a good time to try. "You know that story I was telling you earlier about your dad?"

            Shawn sniffed and wiped at his eyes before nodding.

            "The three words he said to us were ' _I'm a dad_.' He was happy about having you. He may be a hard-ass sometimes, or most times, but never think that he doesn't care about you kid." Leaning over he kissed Shawn on the top of his head and moved to get out of the car.

            "Where are you going?" Shawn looked up at his uncle.

            Shrugging he answered, "I'll be around Shawnie. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

            "Bye Jack," Shawn said sadly.

            "Bye Shawn."

            Shawn heard the rev of the motorcycle and then a moment later, his uncle was speeding down the road. Shortly after, his dad entered the car. Henry was silent as he started the engine and drove them home.

            Resting his head against the window, Shawn wondered what his dad was feeling and how he himself would feel if he found out his dad was dying. It was not a pleasant thought, and Shawn wondered when he would be able to see Gus and tell him what was going on. He needed someone to talk to and figured his dad wouldn't be in a talking mood for quite some time. One thing Shawn hoped was that he would be able to see his grandpa one last time, even if it was just to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know in the episode "Indiana Shawn" Shawn mentioned that he had never lost anyone close to him but I am chalking that up to be a BIG BIG oopsy on the writers part because it was established that Henry's mom died when Shawn was a kid. Maybe it was just Shawn getting into the moment and ranting... I dunno.


	5. Missing You Already

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write, and rightly so. Anyone who has lost someone they love could relate and I must warn there is tear jerky-ness and sensitive material in this one.
> 
> I also came up with a name for Henry's dad besides "Grandpa Spencer" which I used in Born this Way. Since the Fanon middle name for Shawn has always been Henry, I figured since Henry's middle name is William I would make it a Spencer tradition to give the son their father's name as their middle name. So, for the sake of giving the old man SOME sort of name, I made him William Spencer. Hope this makes some sort of sense. ;)

**Chapter 5- Missing You Already**

**San Francisco- July 1993:**

            Shawn stared numbly out the window of his dad's truck. Any other day he would have been tickled pink to see San Francisco. His family never traveled much so he usually looked forward to any chance to escape Santa Barbara. Not this time. This time he wished, more than he'd wished for anything before, that he was back home playing video games with Gus.

            "Shawn, look, it's the Golden Gate Bridge." Maddie pointed out, trying to elicit any kind of response from the morose teen. He barely glanced at the view as they drove past.

            Henry noticed his son's lack of interest. He couldn't say he blamed Shawn since he shared the same sadness. No one wanted to take this kind of trip. No one wanted to have to say goodbye to a parent.

            The morning after Jack had shown up with the news about their father's condition, Henry had called the old man. Needless to say, his dad was not happy that Jack broke his promise. Henry listened as his father tried to explain his reasoning.

            _"Henry, I didn't want you kids to fawn over me like you did with your mom." He said gruffly. "It was too hard on all of us, especially Jack-" He trailed off and sighed. "I know you're probably furious with me but believe me, I thought it was for the best..."_

            That was almost two and a half months ago. Henry called his father almost every day after that. Shawn spoke with him a couple of times too, especially once school ended for summer vacation and everything settled into a new normal.

            That was until they got the call. It was a doctor from a hospital in San Francisco. The doctor said that they had admitted a William Spencer early that morning and he was asking for his family. Henry knew then that it was time. He made his dad promise to let him know if he could.

            So there they were, heading to the hospital to say goodbye.

            Maddie was torn. Her first instinct was to say things a psychologist usually says when it comes to death. _It is a natural process in life. It's okay to be sad._ The mother and wife part just wanted to hug her men and never let them go. Even if their marriage had been rocky lately, Maddie still loved Henry and hated to see him in pain.

            "We're almost there," Henry stated. Everyone sat up straighter, nervous at what condition the old man might be in when they arrived. When Henry last spoke with him, the doctor said his father's condition was declining steadily and he wouldn't last much longer. That prompted a call to Chief Fenich, who understood completely and offered to give him two weeks off. Henry was actually contemplating taking it.

            As they pulled into the parking lot, Shawn seemed to break out of his stupor and became restless. He wanted to go inside and see his grandpa, make sure he was all right. _He has to be all right. This is just a false alarm._ Shawn knew he was just fooling himself and trying to make himself feel better, but he refused to give up hope. His grandpa was a Spencer—he was too stubborn to die.

            After entering the hospital, Henry went to check in while Shawn and Maddie stayed in the waiting room. Shawn glanced around at all the sad and scared faces. They made him uncomfortable. "Mom, how long will we have to wait?"

            Noticing her son's discomfort, Maddie replied. "Not long, Goose. Look, here they come now." Sure enough, Henry was walking quickly up to them, with a very young doctor in tow.

            "Hello, I'm Doctor Todd Werner." The youthful man greeted them. Shawn was just about to make a _Doogie Houser_ reference but the doctor didn't pause long enough. "I'm William Spencer's attending physician. He came in early this morning in full cardiac arrest. His vitals are stable for now, but we have no idea how long that will last and we've decided not to operate—"

            "Can we just see him?" Shawn interrupted. He didn't want to wait another minute to see his grandpa, much less have to listen to a Neil Patrick Harris wannabe tell him how fast the old man was dying.

            Taken aback at Shawn's abruptness, the doctor stammered a reply. "W-well certainly. This way."

            Henry gave his son a warning look as they traveled down the stark white hallways.

            The doctor stopped in front of a room and motioned for them to enter first. Shawn almost gasped as he entered the room. The hearty and smiling grandpa he knew had been replaced by a frail-looking old man attached to various tubes and machines. _Did I look this bad when I had my surgery?_ He wondered.

            The senior Spencer looked up and smiled widely when he saw his family. "Hey there, kiddos." He greeted in his usual gruff drawl. He honestly was surprised they had gotten there so fast. It had only been about half a day since the hospital had called them and William figured it would take a while for Henry to plan to get there. His eldest had never been very spontaneous.

            "Grandpa!" Shawn stepped forward and gave the old man a hug, making sure to avoid the IV and oxygen tubes.

            Henry stood back and took stock of his father, noticing something was missing from the array of machines. "Pops, where is your heart monitor?"

            William shot his son a guilty glance but kept his tone upbeat for Shawn's sake. "Oh, that damn thing. The alarms kept going off and it was giving me a headache, so I asked them to get rid of it. It isn't like it will help me live longer anyway."

            The grownups in the room shared a knowing look.

            "How are you feeling?" Maddie stepped forward and took his hand.

            "Oh, I'm alright. It's just convincing the staff of that fact, that's the hard part." He chuckled and winced. Looking up at his family, he asked, "You going to stay long?"

            Henry nodded. "We're getting a room at a hotel."

            "I'm staying here," Shawn said, determined not to leave the hospital room until his grandpa was better.

            William smiled at his grandson, "That's great, kid. You know, the food they give us here isn't all that good. Do you think you could run with your mom down to the cafeteria and grab me something I can actually eat?"

            Excited to be able to help, even if it was grabbing food, Shawn grinned. "No problem. I'll bring you back something great."

            Getting what her father-in-law had up his sleeve, Maddie gave his hand one more squeeze and Henry a quick kiss before she followed her sprinting son down the hallway.

            Once the two men were alone in the room, they gave each other sad smiles. Henry moved to sit in the chair next to the bed. "So, how are you really feeling?"

            William sighed. "Tired, damn tired. How's your boy holding up?"

            "You know Shawn. I don't think he really wants to _get_ it, you know?" Henry rubbed his thinning hair.

            The old man reached out a hand and gripped his son's shoulder tightly. "I'm going to miss him." Henry raised his head to look his father in the eyes before the old man continued, "I'm going to miss you too." William bit his lip, holding back the emotions that were flooding though him.

            _Even on their deathbeds, Spencer men don't cry._ Henry didn't know what to say.

            William sniffed a bit and continued, "Tell your brother next time you see him, I'm glad he didn't listen to a foolish old man. I'm glad he told you."

            "I'm glad he did too." Henry cleared his throat. In these last couple of months, he'd been closer to his father than he had in years. "Has Jack been by to visit?"

            The old man nodded weakly, he was starting to feel tired. "Yeah, he actually stopped by this morning, dropped off a couple of things for me."

            Henry watched as his dad yawned. "You need some rest, pop."

            "Yeah, I suppose so." He looked at his son hopefully, "You're gonna stick around for a while right?"

            Nodding, Henry reassured his dad. "I'll be right here."

            By the time Shawn and Maddie got back, William was fast asleep and Henry had already wiped away all traces of the tears he had let fall when there was no one around to see.

\--------------------------------------

            Later that evening, Henry was dozing at his father's beside, Shawn was on the other side of the bed watching TV, and Maddie had gone to the hotel to get everything ready in case they decided to stay there.

            William had been lying awake for about a half an hour, he was still tired, but he had something to make up for with his grandson. "Hey Shawn, c'mere." He shifted so he could sit up better.

            Shawn moved closer and helped his grandpa get comfortable. "What is it?"

            Pointing to the bag underneath the bed, William said, "There's a book in that bag. Get it for me." Shawn reached down, grabbed the book, and handed it to his grandpa. "Thanks. Now, come closer." Shawn did as he asked, noticing the cover of the book. It was a guide to San Francisco. "Now I promised you, that I would take you on a tour of the town. I know you were disappointed, so I mean to keep that promise the best I can."

            Shawn gaped at his grandfather. "Uncle Jack told you, didn't he?"

            "He went out and bought the book for me. Now, let's get cracking." William turned to the first page, which was, oddly enough, the Golden Gate Bridge. "It took four years to build this bridge..."

            As the old man rambled on about San Francisco, Henry woke briefly to a sight he hoped he'd never forget. His son was perched on the bed beside his grandfather, gazing at him in wonder and appreciation. With a smile, Henry closed his eyes again and decided to get some more sleep.

\------------------------------------------

            A half hour later, Shawn could see his grandpa was getting tired from talking. His breaths were becoming shallow and the pauses were getting longer. He figured he would give him a break, and do some of the talking himself. "Grandpa?"

            "Hmmm?" William looked up from the book to his grandson's face. Time had not dulled his own detective senses. He could tell something was bothering the boy.

            "I already told Uncle Jack this..." Shawn leaned over, making sure his father was still asleep. " _I took the detective exam._ " He whispered.

            William's eyes widened and he chuckled, "Kid, you really are ahead of the class aren't you?" Shawn laughed quietly along with him.

            Shawn sobered first and looked at his lap. "I got a perfect score. Jack thinks I shouldn't tell my dad, Gus thinks I should. I don't know what to do. I was hoping you would."

            Taking a shaky breath William reached up and turned Shawn's head to face him. "Listen good, Shawn. Your dad is just trying to do what he thinks is best for you, but it's up to _you_ to make the decision whether you want to tell him or not. You can be the greatest detective in the world, but if you don't love what you do, what's the point?" He gave Shawn a meaningful look.

            Shawn breathed a heavy sigh. "Ever since I was a kid, all I've ever really wanted is for him to _like_ me. I do _everything_ he asks me but it's never enough you know?"

            William groaned a bit, "Shawn, if you spend all your time looking for other people's approval, you aren't going to have a very happy life. You need to figure out how to be yourself, and let others learn to accept you for who you are." William pointed at Shawn's chest. "Not for the person you think they want you to be."

            Nodding, Shawn started to get his grandpa's point. He remembered all the times he'd done his best for his dad, and then did better, and better. Each time he met the bar that his father set for him, his father just raised it higher to almost unreachable heights when it came to his abilities. Now his grandpa was telling him that he needed to do that for himself, rather than for his dad's unobtainable approval. Frowning, he turned to ask his grandpa a question when Shawn realized the old man had fallen asleep.

            After a moment, Shawn noticed something wasn't right. His grandpa seemed even paler than before. _"Grandpa?"_ He whispered and shook his arm. "Grandpa?" He placed a hand on William's chest, to feel if it rose and fell. It didn't. _Oh no, this can't be happening._ "DAD!"

            Startled awake by Shawn's desperate shout, Henry bolted up from his chair. When he saw where his son was looking, he grabbed his father's wrist to check for a pulse. There wasn't one. Henry's breath hitched as he shook his head. "He's gone, Shawn."

            "We have to do something! Get the nurses! Call 911! Anything!" Shawn shouted, unable to process why his dad wasn't doing more to save his grandpa.

            "We can't do anything kid," he answered, sadness creeping into his voice. "Your grandpa signed a DNR."

            Shawn knew what it meant—Do Not Resuscitate. The doctors were legally unable to help his grandpa. He slammed his fist on the tray next to him, sending food flying everywhere before collapsing with his head in his hands. His grandpa was gone. Looking up, Shawn clearly saw his pain reflected in his father's eyes. He rose and stood beside his dad as they both said their last goodbyes.

\-------------------------------------------

            They held the funeral two days later. William had everything pretty well planned out. He hadn't wanted people waiting around after he was gone. His will stated that he wanted to be buried in Santa Barbara next to his wife. Chief Fenich made sure that he was given a police funeral. After all, William Spencer was an officer in the SBPD for over thirty years before he retired.

            Shawn remained seated as relatives and friends paid their respects. He'd already said his goodbyes in the hospital, plus, he didn't want to have the image of his grandfather in a casket stuck in his memory forever. His mother kept him company as his dad walked up alone.

            The ceremony was nice enough. Many people spoke about how great a man William was. Some of his old police buddies even shared anecdotes of his time on the force. Shawn had wanted to laugh at a couple of them, especially the one about the rubber chicken and a guy stuck in the holding cell bars, but the laughter wouldn’t come. He felt hollow inside, as if a part of him had died too.

            Maddie was very worried. Shawn hadn’t experienced a loss like this before and she wasn’t sure how well he was going to cope. As hard as his father was on him, Henry also protected him from a lot. Sometimes too much in her opinion. Loss was part of life and making excuses for it every time it happened only prolonged the person’s suffering. Maddie had tried to explain that to Henry but the conversation just led to another fight as usual.

            After the service, everyone adjourned to Henry’s backyard for BBQ. The Gusters, who had not been at the service in the cemetery, brought over some of Winnie’s famous pies for everyone, and Bill helped Henry cook.

            After managing to get away from his parents, Gus spotted Shawn sitting alone on the bench across the road by the beach. He walked over and sat down next to Shawn, who was staring out at the ocean. “Hey.”

            “Hey,” Shawn replied.

            Gus squirmed a bit. He was at a complete loss on how to comfort his grieving friend. “Uh, mom brought her pies.” He knew Shawn was a huge fan of his mother’s cooking. “I think she made blueberry, I know how you like—”

            “I’m not going to tell him,” Shawn stated abruptly.

            Gus was confused. He had no idea what Shawn was talking about. “Tell who, what?”

            “My dad,” Shawn explained, still looking at the water. “I’m not going to tell him about the test.”

            “But why?” Gus exclaimed. “You said you would finally get to show him up!”

            “Gus,” Shawn sighed, glancing at him. “Don’t be Goldie Locks when she realizes whose house she broke into. My dad wouldn’t see it as showing him up. He would see it as evidence that his training is worth it.” Shawn shook his head. “Grandpa was right. I _don’t_ need my dad's approval, so I’m keeping my mouth shut for once.”

            Gus shrugged and stood up. He hoped Shawn would at least join him for some BBQ and maybe come to his senses in the process. “So,” he gave Shawn a sly smile, “is the best detective in Santa Barbara hungry for some grilled pineapple and ham kabobs?”

            Shawn shook his head and waved Gus off. He felt bad about it but he also wasn’t hungry. “You go on. I want to stay here for a while.”

            Gus pouted and shuffled off to find some grub. _He just needs time._ He rationalized. _Maybe I'll bring him a piece of pie later._ Gus glanced back at the bench and saw Shawn hunched over even further and his shoulders were shaking—he was definitely crying. Gus’ first instinct was to rush back and comfort his friend, but he didn't. He figured if Shawn wanted him to help he would have said something. That didn’t mean Gus couldn’t have an excuse to head back sooner. _Better make it pronto on the pie._

\--------------------------------------------

            That night, Shawn couldn’t sleep. He had long since heard his parents come upstairs and head to their room for the night. There’d been another blow up between them after the party. His mom was noticing that he was not himself and his dad kept saying that his son didn’t need any help, just some time to get over it.

            Shawn knew they were both just worried about him in their own way, but for all their worry and speculation, neither had actually tried talking to him. It wasn’t often that Shawn was mad at his mother, but he couldn’t get over how ignored he felt.

            Usually, to please his parents, he would pretend everything was okay. He would smile, make jokes, and go about his day as if nothing was wrong while doing his best to cope by himself. This time though, Shawn didn’t give a rip about what his parents thought or felt, or wanted him to feel. Coming to a decision, Shawn slid out of bed and grabbed his backpack, making sure to stuff it full of clothes and necessities, like underwear and his Tears for Fears cassette.

            Tiptoeing down the stairs, and making sure to skip the one that creaked loudly, Shawn went straight for the door. Once it was closed tightly behind him, he bolted as fast as he could down the street, with a single glance back at the house to make sure he wasn’t followed.


	6. Catch Me If You Can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put a lot of funny stuff in this one. I felt the series has kind of been too serious so far, and this is Psych so every once and a while there has to be some kind of goofiness interlude! Enjoy the anarchy :D

**Chapter 6- Catch Me if You Can**

**Santa Barbara- July 1993:**

            Henry woke around six the next morning. After not sleeping all that well, he figured he would get an early start. He was still reeling from everything that had happened during the week, not to mention the reading of his father's will was that afternoon. Henry really didn't expect Jack to show up for it. His brother had a tendency to run from painful experiences. Jack would return, eventually, or they would find him. Until then, their father's estate would remain in Henry's trust.

            During his musings, Henry made coffee and went to grab the newspaper off the front porch. When he came back in, he sensed that something was off. Looking at the door for a moment, he figured out what it was. The doorknob lock had been set when he went out, not the deadbolt. He _never_ forgot to engage the deadbolt. His cop instinct kicked in and screamed at him. _Something's wrong!_

            Henry quickly made his way upstairs, feeling the need to check on his family first. He knew that Maddie was okay, as he'd just seen her a few minutes ago, so he went straight to Shawn's room. The door was ajar—the second sign that things weren't right. Since becoming a teenager, privacy had been a necessity for Shawn and he always kept his door closed.

            When he flung the door open, his worst fears were confirmed—Shawn wasn't in bed. Henry searched the room and noticed drawers hanging open, the bed was unmade, and some smaller items were missing. Checking the closet, Henry confirmed that Shawn's backpack was gone too. It didn't look like anyone had broken in and taken him, which meant his son had flown the coop.

            "MADELEINE!" He yelled and ran to their room. Why would Shawn do this? His son had never run away before. Henry hated not knowing where he was.

            Maddie was out of bed the instant she heard her husband's desperate shout. "What is it? Is the house on fire?"

            "Shawn ran away!" Henry growled and started to get dressed so he could go looking for him.

            Maddie shook her head, defending her son. "Shawn wouldn't do that."

            Henry gave her an angry look. "It's not like he's a baby, Madds. He somehow got it into his head that it was a good idea to take off, so he did." Henry tried to control his anger. _Getting emotional isn't going to help anyone,_ he chastised himself. _I need to think like a detective, not a father._ If Shawn didn't want to be found, they wouldn't find him easily. Henry had trained him too well for that, but it wouldn't hurt to check out his usual hang outs, just in case. "Madds, you check the beach, I'll go check with the Gusters and see if he ran off to Gus."

            Maddie nodded and started getting dressed as well. "Should we report him as missing?"

            "No, they can't do anything until he's been missing for forty-eight hours. I might be able to cash in a favor with a couple of the guys on the force though." Henry added quickly after seeing the look of distress on Maddie's face. "Okay, I'll be back in a half hour if I can't find him."

Maddie was disappointed that Shawn would run away now, so soon after Henry lost his dad. She tried to remember anything that Shawn could have said that hinted he was planning to run away but found none. _What are you thinking Goose?_ She wondered as Henry rushed out the front door and she went out the back.

\--------------------------------

            Henry reached the Gusters' within a minute. He didn't feel bad about knocking on their door at six a. m. because Bill went to work pretty early and they were usually up. It didn't take more than two knocks to summon the surly black man.

            "I'm comin', hold your horses!" Bill Guster shouted. Swinging the door open, Bill was surprised to see Henry standing on his doorstep. "Henry, what brings you by so early?"

            "I need to talk to Burton. Shawn went missing this morning. We think he ran off and this is the first place I could think to look."

            Bill saw the worry etched in Henry's features. He would feel the same way if anything happened to his son. "Okay Henry, I got this. BURTON! BOY, GET YOUR BUTT DOWN HERE!"

            There was some clattering from upstairs and a moment later, an exhausted looking Gus trudged down the stairs. "What, Dad?" He stopped in his tracks the instant he saw Shawn's father.

            "Mr. Spencer here says that Shawn ran away this morning. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you son?" Bill gave Gus a hard look.

            Donning a mask of innocence with eyebrows raised in surprise, Gus looked at his father. "No, I haven't seen him at all..."

_Gus had woken to the sounds of something pelting his window. The objects hit so hard he thought the window might break._

_“Gus! Gus, get up!” Shawn jumped up and down as if the motion would wake his friend faster._

_Gus went to the window and opened it. He almost slammed it shut again after seeing who was there. “Shawn! It’s the middle of the night! What’s wrong with you?”_

_“C’mon man! Can I come up? I need to talk to you…please?”_

_It was the 'please' that did it. Gus could count on one hand the number of times that Shawn had said ‘please’ to him. “Fine, I’ll unlock the back door.” Gus snuck downstairs and opened the door. He immediately noticed that something was wrong with Shawn. His eyes were red and swollen. If Shawn were anyone else, Gus would have thought that he’d been crying._

_Once they were safe in Gus’ room, Shawn dropped his backpack to the floor and sat in his usual chair. “Thanks.”_

_Gus looked at his friend. “So, are you going to explain why you’re in my house in the middle of the night, Shawn?”_

_“They were fighting again.” Shawn sighed and wiped his face._

_“Your parents?”_

_“No Gus, my Rock’Em Sock’Em Robots… of_ course _I meant my parents!” Shawn sneered._

_Gus never understood the dynamics of the Spencer household. His own family had a different way of being mad at each other. They got everything off their chests, then took their time and got over it. Shawn’s family seemed to hold everything in and explode, leaving constantly hurt feelings and bitter anger behind. “Isn’t your parents' fighting a daily thing now? Why are you so upset about it this time?”_

_“Because they always turn their stupid arguments to being about me, but do they ever talk to me about it? NO!” The anger started boiling up in Shawn. “It’s always, ‘_ Shawn never does anything right.’ ‘Shawn is upset.’ ‘Well he needs to man up.’ _Not ONCE do they come and ask,_ ‘Shawn, how do you feel?’ _It’s like they pull me wherever they want to go and I have to just enjoy the ride, ya know?”_

_Gus kept silent. He knew Shawn needed to let some stuff out, but at the same time, he hoped the ranting wouldn’t wake his parents up._

_“So then I’m like, screw this, and I left. I just packed up and, BOOM. Gone. I-I just can’t be there for a while.”_

_Gus had no problem with Shawn staying at his house, and he was sure his parents really wouldn’t mind either, but there was the one big roadblock to Shawn’s plan. His father. “Sooner or later, your dad is gonna find you Shawn.”_

_Shawn shook his head. “Not if you don’t tell him.” Shawn looked at him desperately. “Gus, you can’t let him know I’m here.”_

_“Alright,” Gus sighed. “I’ll open the Vault of Secrets for this one. He’ll never know you were here, I promise.”_

            Henry knew Gus wasn't telling the truth by the way the boy avoided eye contact with him. "Gus, look at me. Did you see Shawn last night or this morning?" The boy’s eyes reluctantly met his. Henry could tell that Gus was doing his best to look innocent, and was doing a fair job of it too. Even so, Henry knew the answer to his question already. Shawn was here, or had been here at some point, which explained why Gus looked so tired. He leaned in close and whispered, "Is he still here or did he leave?"

            "Look, Mr. Spencer. He was pretty upset when he came over. Just give him some time, okay?" Gus whispered back.

            _Still here then._ Henry figured. "No," he said in a normal tone. "He has to learn he can't run from his issues." Turning to Bill, Henry asked, "May I?" motioning in the direction of Gus' room.

            "Go ahead." Bill moved his son and himself out of the way, knowing it wasn't wise to get between a Spencer and his prey.

\---------------------------------------

            _"He has to learn he can't run from his issues."_ Shawn listened at the door and knew he'd been found out. "Vault of Secrets, my ass," he cursed, trying to find some way out of the trap he was in. Shawn knew he wouldn't be able to hide, so he would definitely have to run. _But how?_ His eyes flicked everywhere frantically. He could hear his father's steps sneaking up the stairs. Finally, his eyes settled on the aerial delivery system he and Gus had fabricated.

            They had used some discarded rigging from one of his father's boats, attached the wheels from a modified roller-skate, and then tied a basket to it. They used it to haul things from the yard to Gus' room and vice versa. The rigging connected to the clothesline in the back yard. The three hundred pound monofilament line was more than strong enough to hold his weight. He just needed something to fit over the skate that he could grip. Figuring Gus' blanket would do, Shawn grabbed his backpack and was out the window by the time his dad burst through the door.

            Entering the room, Henry saw Shawn standing at the window looking like he was about to jump out the window to escape. "Shawn!" Henry lunged for him and missed, but finally saw what Shawn had up his sleeve. The kid had rigged a zip line and was currently zooming down into the Gusters’ back yard. Henry could swear he heard Shawn humming the _Indiana Jones_ theme. "You have got to be kidding me," he exclaimed in disbelief.

            "Da dadada... da da DA!" Shawn yelled as he hit the ground running and disappeared around the corner of the house.

            Not missing a beat, Henry sped back down the stairs straight by the Gusters, who had gathered at the bottom of the stairwell, looking bewildered. Gus ran outside. When he saw Shawn's dad take off down the street, he realized that somehow, Shawn had gotten away. "Yessss!" Gus pumped his fist.

            "What's going on guys? Why is Mr. Spencer running through my house?" Winnie asked.

            "Uh, no reason Sugar," Bill stated, giving his son a look that clearly said, 'We will talk later', and then guided Winnie by the shoulders into the kitchen. "So, about breakfast—"

            Gus watched his parents leave before rushing back up to his bedroom to see what had happened. The window was wide open. Looking down into the yard, he saw his blanket and the wheels from their delivery system lying on the ground. "Dammit, Shawn! That was my favorite blanket,” Gus grumbled. Still, he wished Shawn luck. His friend was going to need it, as enraged as his dad was at him.

\------------------------------------

            Shawn didn’t even look back once as he ran, because he knew his father would be right on his heels. He zigzagged through yards, hopped fences, and ran through flowerbeds all over the neighborhood before he slid into a shed and took a breather. He waited about fifteen minutes before he dared poke his head out. There was no sign of his pursuer.

            Breathing a sigh of relief, Shawn exited the shed and headed for the beach. There were always vendors along the boardwalk, and he was super hungry. He’d taken about ten bucks with him when he left home and figured he would be able to afford a bite to eat.

            Shawn found a hot dog vendor only a couple blocks away and bought five chili-dogs. He was finishing his third one on a bench when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, scattering his food and expecting his father to be right behind him.

            “Oh, Goose! I was so worried!” Maddie grabbed Shawn in a crushing hug. “Your father said you’d run off.”

            Once his mother let go, Shawn backed up out of her reach and scowled. “Leave me alone.”

            Maddie was hurt. She knew Shawn had been upset about his grandfather's death, but she didn't see a reason he would be angry at her for it. She figured something else must have happened in between that sent him over the edge. “Shawn, what is it? What happened?”

            “ _You guys_ happened!” Shawn screamed in rage and started pacing. “You and dad just keep fighting, and keep using me as an excuse, expecting me to be ok with it. Well here’s a newsflash _mom,_ I’m not okay with it. I’m not okay with being caught in the middle of your fights, bringing me into your little _discussions_ and making me feel like it’s my fault you guys are at each other’s throats when it’s really all YOU!”

            It finally clicked for Maddie why Shawn was upset. The fight the night before must have triggered his anger. She remembered all the times she was mad at Henry and used his relationship or training with Shawn as ammo. She wondered if she had really expected her genius son not to realize what was going on. She reached out again, “Oh honey, I’m sorry.”

            Shawn recoiled from her touch. “I can’t deal with it anymore, Mom! It’s driving me crazy, and after Grandpa—” Shawn stopped and avoided the subject, “After all that’s happened, I don’t want to deal with you two fighting.” Tears started to fall from Shawn’s eyes. He was sad, hungry, and exhausted. He didn’t want to be upset with his mom either. She had always been the understanding one.

            “Goose, please. Let’s go home, okay? You can get some sleep and we’ll talk about things when you wake up. I’ll even pick up some smoothies or whatever you’d like. Sound good?” Finally giving in at the prospect of rest and food, Shawn let his mom lead him home.

\--------------------------------------------

            Henry was on the phone with the police when Maddie walked in with Shawn. He saw her first and was about to tell her about Shawn’s daring escape from the Gusters’ and then he noticed who was with her. His face turned ten shades of red as he told the officers, “Never mind. He’s back.”

            Maddie saw how upset her husband was, and didn’t think Shawn would be able to take the yelling his father was about to unleash on him without running again. “Goose, go up to your room.”

            “NO! He is going to stay right here and explain to me what the hell was going through his head, running off willy-nilly.” Henry moved toward Shawn, giving his son no room to retreat. “I thought I taught you better than this kid. You could have at least made it harder to find you.”

            Shawn couldn’t believe it. His dad was angrier at him for being found so easily than he was for running away in the first place. Shawn wasn't exactly trying to hide anyway. He'd just wanted some time away from the fighting and someone to talk to. Once again, the Great and Powerful _Henry Spencer_ ruined it for him.

            Maddie raised her voice, trying to drill some sense into her husband, “Henry, this has to stop. This week has driven us all a bit crazy. With your dad and your new job, things have gotten stressful. I think we need to have some time away from things, as a family. Shawn still has a while before he needs to start school, and I know you have a lot of vacation hours available. I even heard Chief Fenich ask if you were going to take those two weeks he offered you,” she pointed out.

            “I told you before Madds,” Henry rubbed his head. “I can’t take time off right now. I have important things I’m working on.”

            “More important than your family?” Maddie demanded angrily.

            Henry sighed. “Maddie, I promise, sometime we will get out of here and go somewhere to forget everything, but I _can’t_ right now. Maybe…” Henry hated to say it but he figured it would placate his wife a bit. “Maybe we should try some counseling.”

            Shawn couldn’t believe his ears. His dad was _willing_ to go to a marriage counselor?

            Meeting his wife’s gaze, Henry continued. “I know we haven’t been getting along lately, and I want to try to make this work, honey.”

            “Alright, Henry. I'll see if I can talk to someone about it tomorrow.” Maddie knew some good marriage counselors.

            While his parents were busy having a calm moment, Shawn figured he would be able to slip away to his room, but his dad caught him. “Shawn, I haven’t forgotten about you yet. You will get no TV, video games, and no going anywhere for the rest of the summer!”

            Shawn’s mouth dropped open, “But Dad…”

            Henry pointed at his son’s chest. “I don’t want to hear it! I’m not going to put up with you acting out. You can’t just run from things you don’t like. You aren’t twelve anymore. Tighten it up. You will have to deal with worse things in life than this.”

            Before Maddie could defend Shawn at all, Henry stormed out of the room. Shawn stood there looking appalled at his punishment. She walked up and put an arm around her son. “I’ll see if I can talk to him when he comes down. He’s sad too, Goose, he’s just showing it differently.”

            Shawn nodded and turned towards the stairs. He really hoped his mom would be able to talk his dad out of the punishment. _No TV for the rest of the summer? That’s messed up!_ He whined to himself and cursed his decision to come back. Even if his parents went to counseling, he doubted things would get better. He flopped down on his bed and was about to pass out when he decided to use the phone in his room to call Gus. His dad never said he couldn’t talk to his friend. Shawn figured his dad had learned his lesson about that the year before, when the Gusters had tried to separate them.

            Luckily, Gus was the first one to answer the phone. “Hey buddy, guess what?”

            _“Shawn, you owe me a new Spiderman blanket.”_

            “Oh yeah, well um, I’ll get right on that. I just wanted to let you know I’m home and grounded forever.”

            Gus scoffed, _“I doubt it's forever Shawn. Just be glad you're still alive.”_

Shawn cocked his head, “True. Uh, buddy, could you do me a favor and _not_ tell anyone I was crying. It would ruin my manly image.”

            _“As if you had a manly image to begin with Shawn," Gus teased, sighing tiredly. "Your secret's safe with me, Shawn. Vault of Secrets, remember?”_

            Rolling his eyes, Shawn snorted, “Yeah, right. Vault of Secrets.”

            _“Hey Shawn, you aren’t going to run away again, right? At least not without telling your oldest and blackest friend first.”_

            Shawn heard the worried tone in his friend's voice even over the phone line. He thought for a minute. His dad had mentioned going to counseling. If his dad was willing to take a step as big as that to fix their family’s problems, Shawn could at least stick around to see how things turned out.

“Yeah buddy. If I ever run away, you’ll be the first to know.” Shawn said jokingly, trying not to worry Gus. As exhilarating as it had been, he didn’t think he would be running away again anytime soon.


	7. Cutting Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long waits between postings. My husband had heart failure and I spent the last month in and out of a hospital 150 miles away from home!
> 
> If you are interested, you can check out www.gofundme.com/stevesheart

**Chapter 7- Cutting Deep**

**Santa Barbara** **October 1993-**

 

            “Go Saber Cats!” A macho shout from farther down the hallway made both Shawn and Gus cringe. Random bursts of sports related school spirit could only mean one thing. Quarterback Howie Tolkin and his group of testosterone-laden thugs were heading to football practice and any “uncool” people who got in their way would become an instant target. Unfortunately for them, Shawn and Gus were so far considered uncool.

            Gus had to admit, he owed Shawn big time for sticking with him in their grade jump. He knew he never would have made it by himself. Sure, there were a couple other students in the advanced class that chose to skip a grade, but they fought their own battles when it came to the constant barrage of torture from their new classmates. Having Shawn with him at least made it bearable.

            “Hey, Guster! Think fast!” Howie shouted and threw a football straight at the teen’s head.

            Gus shrieked in terror and braced for the impact.

            Shawn expertly intercepted the football before it could give his friend a concussion. He’d thought about joining the football team, but figured it was too much work and he didn’t want to be bossed around by an idiot. He held up the ball mockingly, “Hey man! Thanks for the pigskin. You know, that was super generous.”

            Peter Coltier, Howie’s lackey, stepped forward, “You better give it back freakwad! Don’t make Howie come over there and take it.”

            Shawn scoffed and his eyes flicked to look behind the group of jocks. Gus was about to say something but Shawn held up a finger to silence him. “Sorry boys,” Shawn continued speaking to the group, “any and all projectiles aimed to kill a person, once caught, become the sole property of said catch-ee.” The humor went over their heads forcing him to clarify. “It means ‘no take-backs’.” He waved the ball jeeringly.

            Howie broke free of his gaggle and pointed a giant meaty finger at Shawn and Gus. “That’s it, you’re dead.” Just as he moved his large frame towards the pair, a commanding voice from behind the quarterback stopped him in his tracks.

            “Howard Tolkin! My office, NOW!” Principal Leman had heard the whole exchange as he came up behind the football players.

            Shawn had spotted the principal way before the exchange but figured that after two months of Gus and himself suffering relentless torment, the sports fanatics deserved a little dose of humility and humiliation of their own. Giving the principal a smile and a wave, Shawn called after him, “Say hi to the new wife for me Mr. L!”

            Gus watched the team depart and cringed at the look Howie gave them over his shoulder. “That guy is going to end up killing somebody someday.”

            “Couldn’t agree more buddy.” Shawn clapped Gus on the back and handed him the football. He already had a better one at home.

            The incident, like all the others, was soon forgotten as they exited the building and headed for one of the restaurants near the High School. Every Friday they gorged themselves with an early supper because both their parents worked late that night and never cooked anything at home that day.

            It also gave them a bit of time to relax before the weekend. Even though both had skipped their sophomore year, they stuck with the advanced classes. That meant they did more homework and less hanging out again this year. Since their parents wouldn’t let them skip _another_ grade, the extra credits were being counted as college credits. Shawn figured his dad was going to make him go to college at least a couple years before going into the police academy. He hoped the credits would cut that time down even more.

\------------------------------------------

            Forty minutes later, Shawn and Gus emerged from the restaurant comfortably sated carrying leftovers, engaged in a heated argument.

            “Dude,” Shawn gave Gus an indignant glare, “You can’t even say that tortilla chips by themselves are all that good. If I wanted to eat a hard, plain chip made of ground and mashed corn, I’d be a cow.”

            “Shawn! As a snack chip, the nacho is a classic and does not necessarily need other food or flavor enhancements for people to want to eat them.”

            “If that were true then they wouldn’t have come out with Doritos.”

            The pair continued to bicker not noticing the man running down the sidewalk until he crashed into them, scattering their boxed food all over the place. After being knocked to the ground, Shawn grabbed Gus and pulled him down too.

            “Watch it man!” Gus complained.

            “Yeah, watch it!” Shawn echoed.

            Casting Shawn a glare Gus clarified, “I was talking to _you_ Shawn! You’re the one who knocked _me_ down.”

            Looking in the direction of the fleeing man, Shawn grumbled, “What was that guy’s problem?” He got to his feet and started brushing himself off. He came across a moist area on his shirt and looked down. Through the blue of his t-shirt, it looked like a dark grapefruit-sized smear. “Man, now I got ketchup on my shirt!” He touched the stain and his hand came back dark red. Not ketchup red, wet blood red.

            “Uh Shawn, is that what I think it is?” Gus pointed at his friend's hand, clutching his stomach and fighting back nausea. “Was that guy bleeding?”

            Shawn touched his clean hand to his temple, closed his eyes, and replayed what he had seen. The man had several dark splotches on his clothing. He had been running—running away from something or someone. When they collided, he had been looking the other way, panicked. Shawn’s eyes snapped open. “Gus, it wasn’t his blood! The blood was splattered _on_ him.”

            “So he’s some kind of killer?” Gus asked concerned, casting nervous glances down the street.

            “I don’t know, but I’m going to follow him.”

            Gus grabbed his friend, “No Shawn! I am not letting you chase after a potential murderer.”

            “Guuus! We don’t know if he is a murderer yet, that’s why I’ve got to go after him. If he _is_ a murderer, he can’t get away with it.” Shawn pulled away and took off down the street.

            “ _Dammit Shawn!_ ” Gus cursed and ran, trying to catch up to his friend. “You know you shouldn’t run for at least fifteen minutes after eating! I think I’m getting a cramp. SHAWN!”

\---------------------------------

            Henry was sitting at his desk when he got the call about the fatal stabbing on East Ortega and Spring Street. That intersection was close to Shawn's school, too close. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was just before four p. m. School had just let out less than an hour before and there were probably still a bunch of kids in the area. Worried, he stood and grabbed his jacket.

As head detective, Henry had seen and investigated more murders in the last six months than he had in his sixteen years as a beat cop and a detective combined, or so it seemed. It wasn’t the same Santa Barbara he grew up in. Sure, there was crime before, but it seemed that within the last five or six years the small coastal town’s crime rate had sky-rocketed.

            Moving quickly, Henry urged his partner to pick up the pace. “Come on Lou! Witnesses said they saw a bloody man running down Spring Street. If we hurry we might be able to catch the son of a bitch!” He hoped to get there in time to nail the guy, but knew it may already be too late if the perp found a place to hide.           

\--------------------------------------

            _What am I doing!?_ Shawn had followed the bloody man five blocks until the perp turned and fled down a narrow dead end alley. Shawn slinked forward and hid behind a dumpster. He watched as the man pulled out a six-inch bloody knife and started to wipe it off on his shirt. “Oh man,” Shawn groaned. Gus had been right. The guy had obviously stabbed someone.

            The man reached into the dumpster and pulled out a plastic bag. Fortunately, he stayed on the opposite side from Shawn's position and did not notice the hiding teen.

            Peeking around the corner, Shawn saw the man strip off the bloody shirt and stuff it in the plastic bag. _He stashed a change of clothes! Damn it!_ He was easy to spot wearing the bloody shirt, but Shawn knew that once the man cleaned up, no one would give him a second glance.

            Soon, the man was clean and dressed—no sign of having been covered in blood only a few minutes earlier. Shawn started to move toward the alley entrance so he could call for help. Just as he was moving away from the dumpster, Gus rounded the corner and spotted him.

            Gus didn't know the perp was on the other side of the dumpster, so he didn’t think anything of yelling at Shawn. “Shawn! I looked for you everywhere!” Ignoring his friend’s shushing motions, Gus continued yelling, “What is wrong with you? I can’t believe you went running after someone who was probably a murderer. You—” Gus trailed off as the man, now much less bloody, emerged from behind the dumpster.

            “Kids?” The man seemed confused for a moment before he pulled the knife and brandished it at them. “You just made a huge mistake.”

            Shawn glared daggers at Gus. If they didn’t get out of there, the guy was going to kill them. They were the only witnesses, and they had already seen too much. He decided to stall for time. “Whoa! Wait a minute! We don’t know anything, right Gus?”

            Horrified, Gus exclaimed, “I can’t believe you just gave my name to a killer, Shawn!”

            “Well it’s not like I said 'Burton Guster' or anything…”

            Gus closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, “I’m going to kill you, Shawn Spencer.”

            “Enough!” The man’s shout stopped the friends' bickering instantly. “What is wrong with you two?”       The wail of sirens was a welcome sound to the boys, but it only served to make the man more nervous. With a potential killer so dangerously close, Shawn knew he shouldn’t push it but he was proud that he’d distracted the man long enough for the cops to arrive and he rarely passed up an opportunity to gloat. “Hear that? That’s the sound of iron bars and uncomfortable beds! Give it up, man, you aren’t getting out of here.”

            The man growled, “Sure I am. Once you’re out of the way!”           

            Shawn tried to back up quickly but the man lunged at him, catching him on the upper arm. The knife sliced through his shirt, gashing his arm. Shawn cried out in pain.

            “Shawn!” Gus shouted and moved to help.

            “NO GUS! Flag them down!” Shawn yelled as he looked around frantically trying to find something he could use to defend himself.

            Shawn heard Gus run from the alley, leaving him alone with the knife-wielding murderer, who was poised for another strike. Shawn was scared. Really, _really_ scared, but he couldn’t let the guy get away. He could have run with Gus to freedom, but his conscience wouldn't let him.

            _I’ve got to do something or I’m dead!_ Shawn’s eyes focused on the knife. He had his own smaller one in his pocket, but he was at a huge disadvantage. He remembered some of the weapons training his dad had given him in the last year.

            _“Shawn, if the perp you are facing has a weapon and you don’t, you are in big trouble.”_

_“No duh, Dad.”_

_“Kid, would you shut up and listen! Look at me.” Henry stood as if holding a gun. “You need to use the situation to your advantage. They think they have all the power when the person they are facing is unarmed. This makes them cocky and they aren’t as alert as you. This happens in different ways. Their grip on the weapon may loosen, they may start talking, but you need to_ pay attention _. Keep your eye on the weapon and don’t hesitate to strike. Surprise is weapon powerful tool, and do whatever you have to do to get it away from them if you can…”_

            _Go for the surprise eh?_ Shawn decided to play up his injury. Gripping his lightly bleeding arm, he wailed loudly. “OH! Ow! Oh my God! It hurts so bad!” Looking as pathetic as possible, he begged the man, “Please don’t hurt me! I won’t tell anyone, I promise!” Shawn could see his plan starting to work as the man shifted his grip on the knife. Shawn pretended to cower, moving towards a couple of metal trashcans on the side of the alley.

            “Shut up!” The man moved forward, but not as fast or coordinated as he had the last time. To him, Shawn was just a stupid kid who was in over his head. An easy kill. As he brought the knife down in a clumsy arc, Shawn grabbed the top of one of the trashcans. He hoped that the top would come off and he could use it as a shield but it was on so tight it lifted the whole can up, smacking the guy in the face rather than simply blocking the knife.

            The man fell back and the weapon clattered across the alley, hitting the opposite wall ten feet away.

“Whoa.” Shawn dropped the trashcan, turned, and ran. Enough was enough.

            Once he was clear of the alley and glanced to his left, he was treated to the welcome sight of Gus running towards him. The person behind him wasn’t such a welcome sight though. He should have known his father would be one of the cops to respond. “Great,” he mumbled.

            “Shawn! Oh my God kid, are you okay?” Henry noticed the slice in his son’s sleeve and the splotch of blood on the front of his shirt.

            “Dad, quit it. I’m fine! The bad guy is in alley, go get him!” Shawn pointed.

            Realizing that his son would be fine temporarily, Henry switched back to cop mode. “Wait here.” He pulled his gun, carefully moving down the alley towards the perp.

            “Damn, Shawn,” Lou exclaimed as he went to give his partner backup.

            Shawn wasn’t looking when Gus punched him hard on his injured arm. “Aaah! What the hell Gus!”

            Gus pointed a long finger at Shawn’s face, “You are a jerk. You knew you were rushing into a dangerous situation, Shawn. You should have seen how worried your dad looked.”

            Swatting Gus’ finger away, Shawn scoffed. “He was probably just worried that I would screw up and sully the Spencer name by letting the guy get away. Well, he doesn’t need to worry. I took him out.”

            “What?! Took him out? You didn’t kill him did you?”

            “What? No! I hit him with a garbage can. You should have seen it! I’ve got the moves!” Shawn did a couple of air punches, wincing as he moved his injured arm.

            “Whatever, Shawn. You are really gonna get it when your dad gets done,” Gus warned.

            “Yeah.” Shawn looked around the corner into the alley and saw his dad cuffing the man and reading him his rights. “I know.”        

\------------------------------

At the hospital, Shawn squirmed as the doctor stitched up the small gash in his arm. It ended up being deeper than he thought and just in case, they gave him a Tetanus shot too.

            Henry paced back and forth, too upset at his son for words. "What—?" He growled, "How—?" He grimaced and swallowed hard, doing his best to hold back his emotions. He needed to be angry with Shawn. He couldn't start getting all emotional. The residual pain from his father's death had not quite faded and the prospect of losing his son was enough to bring it back full force.

            Shawn actually felt a bit proud of himself. It was a rare thing to render his father speechless. Never one to want to miss an opportunity, Shawn started reeling off excuses. "Dad, before you say anything, I just want you to know it was all Gus' fault!"

            Henry stopped in his tracks and gave his son a murderous look. _He's using THAT excuse?_

"I mean, if he hadn't given away my position, I could have escaped scot free..."

            "Shawn!" Henry interrupted. He'd had enough. "I can't even comprehend what made you go traipsing off after an armed assailant. You could have _been killed_!"

            "But I wasn't!" Shawn shouted.

            The doctor looked uncomfortable and finished the stitches quickly. "I'll be back in a moment with the shot." With that, he slipped out of the room.

            Henry watched and waited for the doctor to leave before he made his next statement. "I don't believe this! You're acting like a selfish brat. Do you think that no one would care if something happened to you? Are you really _that_ dense, Shawn?"

            "Look, I just used the skills you taught me, and I caught a killer. How is that a bad thing?"

            "If you had used the skills I taught you, you would have called for backup long before going into that alley! An officer never goes into a situation without backup," Henry lectured.

            "Shawn!" A desperate shout from the doorway heralded Maddie's arrival. She had gotten a call less than fifteen minutes ago telling her what had happened. She ran to her son and wrapped her arms around him.

            Henry was glad his wife had shown up. Maybe together they could get through to Shawn about how dangerous his actions had been. "Great, you're here. I was just telling Shawn how irresponsible it was for him to—" When Maddie turned towards him, Henry saw that he was going to be getting _zero_ help.

            "Henry." Maddie said in a metered voice. "Could I talk to you in the hallway please?"

            Shawn could tell his dad was in trouble. "Ooooooo—"

            "Cut it out Shawn!" Henry yelled at his son.

            "Henry!" Maddie yelled from the doorway and he followed her obediently out to the hallway.

            "What is it Madds?"

            "Henry, my son is sitting in a hospital room getting his arm stitched because he has some kind of hero complex. A complex that _you_ gave him!” Maddie pointed a finger at her husband’s chest.

           

            "Don't tell me you are actually taking his side on this!" Henry felt incredibly betrayed. _Why won't she work with me? What's going on?_ They'd had a lot of therapy lately and Henry had thought it was working.

            Maddie glared at her husband. "Whose side am I supposed to take? You’re the one who insisted on all the police training. He's _fifteen years old_ and acting like a burned out detective. I can't walk into a department store without our son pointing out all the shoplifters and adulterers he sees. He can't even relax anymore, Henry."

            "Can you imagine how bad it would have been if I hadn’t trained him? With his luck he’d have been killed before he was ten!" Henry knew he was exaggerating but not by much.

            Shaking her head, Maddie held up her hand. “I can’t do this with you right now Henry. We’ll talk later.” With that, she headed into the hospital room to be with her son.

            Henry didn’t know if he should follow. They were both mad at him. He rubbed his head and walked down the hall towards the cafeteria. He needed coffee, and some serious time to think.

\-------------------------------------

            Maddie walked down the stairs after saying goodnight to her son. She'd been so angry with Henry over the whole situation that she hadn’t spoken to him since their argument. Shawn was already a walking disaster magnet and now he was starting to go _looking_ for danger? It was too much.

            She walked into the living room and noticed Henry was on the couch, reading the paper. He cast a few worried glances her way, probably wondering when she was finally going to say something to him. She wasn't going to make him wait. Maddie sat down in the easy chair and faced her husband. “Henry, we need to talk.”

            Her tone made him uneasy, but she was right. Henry put the paper down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Yeah, we do Madds.” He figured his wife was going to give him another chewing out about how Shawn needed to be a kid, and some kind of psychologist spiel about how he was projecting his own expectations on his son, and so forth.

            "Henry, I love you. You know that, but I'm not sure this is working out for us anymore."

            That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. "What do you mean?"

            "I’ve put something off for as long as I could so we could try and fix this, fix _us_ , but I've been given a great opportunity, and I've decided to take it."

            “Are you talking about some kind of a job?” Henry guessed, still in the dark about what his wife was saying.

            “Yes, but it’s more than that. It's out of the country, Henry.”

            The pieces were starting to fall in place, but he didn’t want to assume anything yet. "Well, when will you be back?"

            Maddie shook her head, frustrated she wasn’t getting through to him. "I don't think I _will_ be back, Henry. At least, not to this house."

            Henry's shoulders slumped, realizing the worst had happened. His wife was leaving him and their son. "Please Madds, no! I'll go to more counseling." She shook her head. "I'll go easier on Shawn." When he saw that wasn't working, he made a last ditch effort. "I'll quit the force."

            It touched her to see how far her husband was willing to go to keep their marriage together, but her mind had been made up for a while. She just needed the courage to come out and say it. The situation with Shawn that day had been the final straw. "Henry, I’ve already accepted the position. I leave in two weeks."

            "What about Shawn? What do I tell him?" Henry hoped mentioning their son would give her pause.

            "I'll tell him. He'll be fine Henry. He's Shawn, remember?" Her attempt at humor was lost on her heartbroken husband.

            Henry shook his head and rose from the couch. He walked to the door and left the house. He was furious with himself for not seeing this coming, furious with her for abandoning them. Her reasons for leaving seemed so incredibly selfish. Thinking that Shawn would be okay with it was probably the dumbest thing she had ever said. With her gone, he would have to be the one to pick up the pieces. Henry knew his son and after Maddie left, Shawn would be anything but fine, no matter how much he pretended he was.


	8. Separation Anxiety

**Chapter 8- Separation Anxiety**

**Santa Barbara- December 1993**

            The car pitched forward suddenly causing both occupants to cry out in surprise. When the car lurched a few more feet then came to an abrupt stop, it caused the passenger to slam his head against the dash painfully

            "Don't use both feet!" The instructor shouted, desperately trying not to get motion sickness or a concussion from the car's jerky movements.

            "I'm trying!" The man whined so much, Shawn almost wished his dad was the one teaching him how to drive. _Almost_. He hadn't really talked to his dad much, not since his parents' separation.

            _Separation._ He hated that word now. It meant weeks without speaking to his mom and spending every evening with his over-anxious father who had no one else but him to torment now. The trainings had continued as they always did, but Shawn didn't put much work into them. He just went through the motions to keep his dad off his back.

            "WATCH THE ROAD!" The instructor's scream brought Shawn's attention back to the present but not soon enough. A few students had to scatter as the car hopped the curb and came to a rest a few feet in on the grass.

            "So, uh, did I pass?" Shawn asked innocently.

            The instructor fumed. "Get. Out."

            "You know if you pass me, I won't have to try again next week." The glare he received was all the answer he needed. "Still a no? Okay then..."

Shawn slipped out of the car and hurried off in the direction of the school, ignoring the finger pointing and whispers of the students he'd almost plowed into. He didn't know why it was so hard to concentrate. Driving was the easy part. The hard part was keeping his mind focused on what he was doing and not letting it wander off.

            "Shawn!" Gus shouted from across the lawn and jogged up to his friend. "I passed!" He broke into a victory dance.

            Shawn smiled at Gus and slapped him on the back. "Great! That makes one of us."

            Gus stopped dancing and frowned. "You didn't pass? I thought the third time was a charm?"

            "Not even sort of." Shawn started walking back toward the school again, avoiding the look of contempt from the instructor who was holding his head and getting out of the car.

            They walked together in silence until they reached their lockers. Gus could tell his friend was upset and figured it wasn't about failing the driver's test. Shawn never let something like that bother him. Gus decided that it was probably the same thing that had been bugging Shawn for the past couple months. The thing that was distracting Shawn in everything he did.

            "Has she called you lately?" Gus asked.

            Shawn slammed his locker. He knew exactly who "she" was. "No."

            "How long?"

            "A couple of weeks." Shawn shrugged trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal that his mom never called him.

            "Did she say when she'd be back?" Gus wanted to add, _"Because it would be nice to have my friend back"_ , but didn't _._

            Shawn picked up his backpack and straightened. "No, she didn't." He surged ahead down the hall to their next class.

            As Shawn walked away, Gus cast a sad glance in his direction. He missed the carefree, goofy Shawn that had been replaced the broody, short-tempered one he had to deal with now. Catching up to him, Gus gave his friend a shoulder bump and a smile to try to cheer him up.

            Shawn actually returned the smile. He knew Gus was trying hard to make him feel better. "I'll try that driver's test again next week," Shawn stated, changing the subject. "Fourth time's a charm, right?"

            "It's only the third time that's the charm, Shawn." Gus frowned because he knew what was coming next. He always walked right into the verbal trap that Shawn was an expert at setting.

            "I've heard it both ways."

\-----------------------------------------

            Henry was actually home when his son got back from school. He'd wrapped up a big case and Chief Fenich had given him the rest of the day off. He was looking forward to going to the shooting range and spending some quality time with Shawn.

            He hadn't been able to nail down his son's mood lately. It seemed like every time they had some time to do anything Shawn would disappear to Gus' house or decide to go for a walk. Henry figured it was just his way of coping and occupying himself since his mother left.

            As soon as Shawn came in the door, Henry asked, "Hey kid, you busy?"

            Shawn froze and tried to think up some kind of excuse to get out of whatever his father was trying to drag him into now, but couldn't. "I guess not."

            "Great! We'll head to the range and get some shots in." Henry smiled.

            Shawn sighed dramatically. "Fine, but do you mind if I eat first?" Without waiting for an answer, Shawn raided the fridge. He emerged from the kitchen a minute later with some left over ribs and pineapple. He was just about to bite into some delicious flavor when his dad interrupted him.

            "How did your driver's test go?"

            _Damn it, I was hoping he would forget about that._ "Great! They liked me so much that they invited me to come back next week."

            Henry shook his head. "You failed again, didn't you?" It had been the third time.

            Shawn said nothing but started to dig into his food. If his mouth was full, he would have a reason not to talk.

            "Shawn!" Henry said exasperated at the fact that his son was not taking this seriously. "You need to get a license! I refuse to drive you around your entire adult life."

            "Sorry." Shawn mumbled with a mouth full of ribs.

            Having heard enough 'sorrys' for a lifetime, Henry growled, "You are _always_ sorry, Shawn. I need you to stop being sorry and to change something."

            Shawn swallowed and glared at his father. "So I guess everything is my fault now right?" Henry opened his mouth to reply but Shawn cut him off. "It's my fault I failed the driver's test, just like it's my fault you and mom split up."

            A horrible silence filled the room.

            Henry couldn't believe what he'd just heard. After all the talks both he and Maddie had with their son, how could Shawn end up thinking that it was _his_ fault that his mother had left? He walked across the room and sat down next to his son, who was now just staring at his plate. "Shawn, it's not your fault your mother left."

            "Well, then, whose fault is it? Hers?" Realization dawned. Shawn looked at his dad with pain-filled eyes. "Did she _want_ to leave us?"

            Henry couldn't say it. He couldn't say, " _Yes Shawn, your mother thought her career would do better if she left the country, left us._ " Henry knew it would shatter the relationship between Shawn and his mother if his son knew she had chosen her career over him. He knew she loved Shawn, but she had made her decision and now he had to deal with the consequences. "No Shawn, it wasn't her fault either."

            Mistaking the sadness on his father's face for guilt, Shawn's eyes narrowed. "So it was your fault?"

            "Will you stop trying to place blame! The point is that your mother and I decided to spend some time apart." Henry tried to clarify.

            Not in the mood to eat anymore, Shawn got up and threw away the remnants of his failed meal. He remembered what his mother had told him the night she told him that she was leaving.

            " _Goose—I need to tell you something." Shawn sat next to his mother and listened. Her expression was serious. "Your father and I have decided to take a break for a while."_

_"A break? Like a vacation?" Shawn gasped and bounced in the chair. "Are we going on a vacation? Tell me we are. OH! Sea World! I've always wanted to go there. I have some unfinished business with a dolphin."_

_"No, Goose, I mean a break from our marriage."_

_Shawn stared at her open mouthed. "I thought you guys were going to therapy?"_

_"We were Shawn but things weren't working out and I got a job offer out of the country. I'm sorry honey."_

           Shawn shook away the memory and grabbed his jacket. "I gotta get out of here Dad. I'll see you in a couple hours."

            "No, wait, Shawn—" Henry stood and tried to stop him, but his son was already out the door. Flopping back down on the couch, he grabbed the remote. He flipped though the channels on the TV, trying to distract himself from the disappointment he felt at having his plans with his son ruined. He hadn't felt this lonely since before he and Maddie had gotten married. When she would go out of town for her job, she was always just a phone call away.

            That thought gave him an idea. She still was just a phone call away. Maybe if he talked to her, he could convince her that she still loved him and she would come back. He grabbed the phone and a piece of paper with her number on it out of his pocket. Maddie had given it to him in case anything happened to Shawn and he had to call her.

            After four rings, a tired Maddie answered. "Hello?"

            Henry winced, forgetting that it was probably really early where she was, "Hey Madds, it's Henry."        

\-------------------------------------

            Shawn pulled his collar up against the chilly December wind and grumbled at his situation. He hadn't wanted to have a fight today. Unfortunately, things had been getting pretty heated between him and his father lately. Probably because their go-between was missing. His mom had always been there to smooth things over when he and his dad were mad at each other. With her gone, there was no buffer between his defiance and his dad's temper.

            Shawn walked towards the boardwalk, hands in his pockets. It was a pretty place with a bunch of businesses, vendors and other stuff to look at. He needed some type of distraction and his appetite was coming back.

            Glancing up at the stores as he passed, Shawn's eyes ghosted over a hole in the wall office building with two separate offices, one of which couldn't have been more than ten feet by ten feet. He'd seen it every time he came down here, and it always seemed to be up for rent. _Who the hell would ever rent that dump anyway?_ Shawn shrugged as he continued on his way. _Bet it has a great view though._ And it did, it faced the pier that jutted out from the boardwalk, exactly where Shawn was headed. After he bought some ice cream first.

            As he was paying for his frozen treat, a man pulled up on a classic motorcycle. He got off the bike to buy his own ice cream. Shawn could tell he was not just a casual rider. The packs on the back of his bike indicated that he was traveling. The leather outfit he wore was expensive, but well worn so Shawn figured he was very experienced.

            "Aw man, that is nice." Shawn exclaimed pointing at the bike.

            The man seemed flattered and smiled. "She's a beaut, isn't she? But like all bikes, you gotta treat her well or she will buck you right off."

            Shawn raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound like a horse."

            "You ever ride a motorcycle, kid?" The man crossed his arms.

            Nodding, Shawn explained, "My uncle took me on a ride once."

            "Nah, I mean have you ever driven one?"

            Shawn shook his head. "No."

            After paying for his cone, the man continued talking. "Well it takes a lot of coordination and work to be a good rider. Balancing the bike while hitting the clutch and stepping on the brake at the right time when you turn so you don't go head over heels."

            They ate their ice cream together as the man explained a few things about working a motorcycle. Shawn was amazed at the amount of information. He never knew it took so much to ride a motorcycle. He figured he could just hop on, start it up, and drive off. As complicated as it seemed, Shawn knew he was hooked.

            "You know, kid, I could give you a ride if you wanted." The man offered.

            As tempting as it was, Shawn was still the son of a cop and, according to the DET, good enough to be one himself, so he knew better than to take that offer. Not wanting to offend the guy, Shawn smiled and said "No thanks, I'm waiting for my mom to pick me up. She's probably already waiting for me next to the pier. Thanks for the info though."

            The man nodded and hopped on his bike. "Remember what I told you. If you get a bike, take good care of it and she'll take good care of you." He revved the engine and sped down the wooded boardwalk.

            "That guy is the coolest guy in the universe," Shawn exclaimed before looking at his watch. It was almost eight p. m. His dad had probably already sent out a search party so he figured he should be getting home.

            He was glad tomorrow was Saturday—he had a lot to do, like homework and finding where they held motorcycle license training. Shawn was positive his dad wouldn't approve, but what the old man didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Plus, it would get him out of having to spend a few more afternoons with his dad, and that was more than worth it to Shawn.

\-----------------------------------

            "This is a bad idea Shawn." Gus glanced around, worried someone would recognize them, and the jig would be up.

            Shawn shook his head. "Gus, we're going into a motorcycle shop, not a secret military base. Though that would be something to do next weekend..."

            "Quit it Shawn! I'm keeping an eye out for your dad. You asked me to be your wingman and that's what wingmen do. If your dad ever found out what you were doing he'd kill you."

            "Okay fine, _wingman._ " Shawn strode into the local Harley Davidson store. They had motorcycle training classes on the weekends, which was absolutely perfect. His dad was working weekends more often, so he had plenty of time to skip off for a couple hours.

            Once they were in the store it was less than ten minutes before Shawn had an appointment for the written and the road test. The subject of money came up but stopped abruptly when Shawn pulled out the required amount--one hundred dollars. He'd planned ahead for this over the last week. After finally getting in touch with his mom, he'd asked to have his Christmas money early. She'd hedged a bit, expressing concern and a desire to talk to his dad. He told her he wanted the money for some extra driver's training but his dad said it was too expensive. The ploy worked like a charm. Three days and a hundred and fifty dollars later, Shawn knew he had more than enough for his plan to work.

            Because of Gus' research, Shawn knew he wouldn't be able to get an actual motorcycle license until he'd had his learners' permit for six months, but he would still get credit for taking the test. All he had to do would be to re-take the written exam right before he got his actual license. With his memory, he'd ace it in nothing flat.

            Now he had to figure out how he was going to get that learner's permit.

\-----------------------------------

            As fate would have it, Shawn ended up with the same driving instructor as the last time. From the man's tense posture and distraught expression, Shawn could tell he wasn't exactly looking forward to enduring another round with him.

            "Hola!" Shawn greeted, "You ready to do some driver instructing today?"

            The instructor hung his head. "Let's just get this over and done with, Mr. Spencer."

            Shawn waved him off, "Aw, you're no fun," then he climbed into the driver's seat.

            Now that he had a goal, he could focus his full attention on passing the test. He finished with an _almost_ perfect score. As soon as the instructor told him that he passed, he was out of the car and running to where Gus was waiting. "I PASSED DUDE!"

            "What!" Gus fist-bumped Shawn and watched as he did his own victory dance.

            "Man, we have _got_ to celebrate! After we stop at the station and tell my dad I passed, we're going out for something to eat." He still had fifty dollars left from his mom and it was burning a hole in his pocket. "How about that new Italian place downtown, Mario's?"

            Gus could almost taste it already. "You know that's right. I hear they have good bread sticks."

\-----------------------------------------

            Shawn skipped into the station, waving at Chief Fenich as he passed. He got to his dad's desk and bounced impatiently, waiting for him to finish his paperwork. "Dad, I have something to tell you—"

            "Shawn, I'm busy, can't it wait?" Henry sighed and went back to his paperwork.

            Frowning, Shawn tried again. "But Dad, it's important!"

            Slamming his pencil down, Henry looked at his son. "Everything is important to you Shawn! I will get to you later, okay? Right now, I have to finish this report. Whatever you have to tell me can wait." Henry grabbed his papers and walked to one of the Captains.

            Shawn gritted his teeth. With all the grief his dad had given him about not passing, he didn't even care to know when he did pass. _Typical._ Seething, Shawn stormed out of the station.

                                                                                                                                                                        -----------------------------------------

            Five minutes later, still looking at forms and reports, Henry walked back to his desk. "Okay Shawn, now what—" He looked up, but his son was nowhere in sight. "Huh, must not have been that important." Henry shrugged and went back to his paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get the real rift between Henry and Shawn started. I always figured it was the little things that just piled up until the big blow out when Shawn left.
> 
> When writing this, I had very little to go on since we didn't see any of Shawn's mid to late teens except in three short commercial/promos that they did of teen Shawn and Gus. The acting is pretty bad, but beggars couldn't be choosers. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7rqYDvb3os


	9. Hidden Liaisons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on an admission by Gus in the episode, "Chivalry is Not Dead, but Someone Is" So there will be a minor spoiler for that episode.

**Camp** **Tikihama** **, June 1994:**

            The sun shone brightly, reflecting off the lake in a blinding array of golden hues. Children of all ages hung around in groups of friends, hugging and greeting each other. It was the start of another summer, which meant another two weeks at Camp Tikihama.

            Shawn and Gus were standing back watching the arriving campers. Both teens were wearing white t-shirts that said “Jr. Camp Counselor.” Shawn's dad had come up with the idea and got the Gusters to go along with it, saying it would teach their sons to be leaders. The reality was that Shawn felt like a geek and Gus was taking his job _way_ too seriously.

            “Hey!” Gus shouted at a couple of younger kids. “No running!”

            Shawn shot his friend a disbelieving look. “ _No running_? Seriously? Gus, we're outside.” Spreading his arms wide, Shawn did a three sixty spin. “Where _else_ are they supposed to run?”

            “I’m not having some kid trip over a rock and break his arm on _my_ watch Shawn,” Gus replied haughtily. “These kids are our responsibility now. We have to protect them.” He puffed out his chest proudly and turned to a couple of six year olds who had dropped a candy wrapper on the ground. He held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks. “Hey, you two! Pick that up!”

            Instead of picking up the wrapper, one of the children kicked Gus hard in the shin then both ran away screaming and laughing.

            “AH!” Gus dropped to his knee and cradled his injured limb, whining as if he'd been gut shot.

            Shawn had no sympathy for his friend’s crocodile tears, having enough experience to know when Gus was actually hurt. “Oh yes, those poor innocent children need so much protecting.”

            “Shut up Shawn!” Gus complained and stood, favoring his uninjured leg.

            “Okay, Wounded Knee Guster,” Shawn quipped, “Let’s get to our bunks.” Kicking at the dirt as he dragged his feet, Shawn walked sullenly towards the counselor cabins.

            Gus watched his friend sulk. He knew Shawn wasn't really happy to be here. They’d both just gotten their driver’s licenses the week before and Shawn was bummed that he hadn’t been able to use it at all. A fact that he'd whined about the entire way from Santa Barbara.

            _“This is just great, Gus, we finally get our licenses and how do we celebrate?” Shawn gestured out the car window. “We go to camp. The one place where we_ won’t _be able to drive for two whole weeks.” Shawn flopped down in the seat defeated._

_Gus felt Shawn’s frustration, but chose to be a little less melodramatic about it. “Dude, when I get back I’m going to borrow my dad’s car and offer rides to the honeys.”_

_A snort from the driver’s seat caused both teens to glare at Shawn’s dad. “You two are going after 'the honeys'?” Henry laughed._

_“I’ll have you know dad that I am a veritable chick magnet,” Shawn boasted._

_Gus looked at Shawn, “Just because you preemptively bought a bumper sticker that says 'Chick Magnet' doesn’t mean you are one.”_

_“You’re not putting that on my truck.” Henry glowered at his son, while keeping one eye on the road._

_“Okay, I’ll just make sure to put it on your patrol car then.”_

_“SHAWN!”_

“Gus!” Shawn got Gus’ attention and quickly caught up with him. Shawn pointedat a group of female counselors, focusing on one in particular. “There she is. Stacy Whittaker.”

            Stacy Whittaker was a seventeen-year old beauty with dark auburn hair and long legs. She went to a high school a town over from theirs, but they saw her a lot at get-togethers between the schools and every year at camp. Shawn had always had a crush on her but this year, Gus could see why.

The sun reflecting off the lake created a halo effect that made Shawn swoon at the sight of her. Shawn could hear Tears for Fears playing “Head Over Heels” in his head.

            She noticed them staring, giggled, and waved at them before turning to whisper to her friends. Shawn waved back. Leaning over to Gus, he whispered, “Dude, she is _so_ into me.”

            “Whatever you say, Shawn.” Gus rolled his eyes and looked around expectantly for anyone else he knew.

            Shawn caught the gesture and groaned. “Man, don’t tell me that Jason Cunningham is here this year.” He didn’t exactly hate the guy, but anyone who turned Gus into a traitor was someone to be avoided.

            “You really need to get over that Shawn, it was years ago. To answer your question, no, Jason isn’t coming this year. He’s on a trip with his family.”

            “How do you even _know_ that?” Shawn spotted the guilty look on Gus’ face. “What, you keep in contact with him?” The look didn’t vanish and Gus didn’t deny the accusation. Shawn put a finger to his head and remembered the last couple of times he had been in Gus’ room. He hadn’t really noticed it at the time, but there were a few letters from someone named Jason addressed to “Killer Bee.” Shawn opened his eyes and his mouth gaped in disbelief. “Oh my God! You’re pen pals!? I didn’t know we needed to change your name to Gustina.”

            “Guys can have pen pals too Shawn.” Gus defended.

            “Yeah, if they’re like eight. Man, I can’t believe I hang out with you sometimes.” Shawn moved a few more feet from Gus, afraid his friend's wussiness might be contagious.

            Gus hated it when Shawn belittled him about his interests and he’d had enough for one day. He shot one final scathing glare at Shawn and stormed off without another word.

            Scoffing, Shawn knew Gus would get over the slight soon enough. He took off in the opposite direction, towards the cafeteria. _I wonder if counselors get extra food privileges._ He was a growing teen after all, and the lunch-lady made awesome corndogs.

\-------------------------------

            Gus slammed the door of the boy’s counselor cabin. He hated it when Shawn made fun of the things he liked. He’d gotten used to the teasing over the years for the most part, but every once and a while Shawn Spencer could really hit a nerve.

            They had both come to the cabin earlier in the day. Being counselors meant they needed to be there before most of the younger kids arrived. Shawn, as always, had claimed the top bunk, which meant that Gus had to worry about hitting his head on the wooden support boards underneath Shawn’s mattress. Grumbling about concussions, Gus started unpacking.

            “Hey, Gus.” A feminine voice from behind him made him jump and he almost had to deal with the self-fulfilling prophesy of hitting his head.

            Spinning around, Gus realized that Stacy Whittaker was standing _right_ behind him. Two words went through Gus’ mind as she slid closer to him. _Uh oh._

\----------------------------

            Later that evening, groups of counselors and attendees alike gathered around a bunch of fires roasting marshmallows. Gus calmly took a bite, doing his best to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He’d just slept with someone for the first time, and it was with a _gorgeous_ girl that just happened to be one that Shawn really liked. As mad as Gus was at Shawn, he never would have done something like that to him, but his brain had shut off and something else had taken over.

            Gus knew that if he didn’t keep it together, Shawn would definitely know something was up, so he figured it was better to play it cool. His best friend and best friend's father were both human lie detectors, and he himself was one of the worst liars on the planet. If Shawn ever came right out and asked him what was going on, he was a dead man.

            Shawn watched the expression on Gus' face morph from one emotion to the next—guilt, worry, fear, and finally nervousness. Sighing, he put his roasting stick down. That last eye twitch from Gus was all he could take. “Man, what is up with you? You’re acting weird.”

            Shawn had expected at least a couple more hours of Gus not talking to him, but an hour after their spat just before supper, Gus came down to the mess hall. He didn’t glare, or attempt any guilt trips at Shawn’s expense, he just sat down calmly and waited for supper to be served. The behavior was so not like Gus that Shawn knew something was up. He’d tried to ignore it but it was bugging him and he had never been the most patient person.

            _Oh no._ Gus knew he’d given himself away somehow. _Damn it he’s never going to speak to me again if he finds out._ Stealing a girl was the ultimate betrayal of friendship. The only thing left for him to do was to get Shawn mad. Gus knew that as soon as Shawn was mad, it was as if he had blinders on, so he put on the best angry act he could muster. “I’m still pissed at you Shawn. You always make fun of me. How would you like it if I made fun of your unhealthy man-crush on Val Kilmer?”

            Shawn’s eyes flashed. “Dude you did _not_ just go there.” _So, he’s been giving me the silent treatment. Well, two can play at this game._ Shawn picked up his stick and started to walk away, but that was before he noticed Stacy Whittaker sitting with her friends. _Watch this Gus._

            Inside, Gus was cheering his success—until he saw where Shawn was heading. His cheering instantly turned into a total freak out as Shawn started trying to chat up the girl he’d just had sex with.

            When Shawn sat down and grinned at Stacy, she looked over and caught Gus’ panicked head shaking. Getting the point, she did her best to be nice, even if she couldn’t remember his name in spite of Gus having told her earlier. She admitted to herself that Shawn was somewhat cute, but definitely not her type.

            By the time everyone was winding down for bed, Shawn was convinced that Stacy was going to ask him out, but she never did. She and her friends excused themselves and went to their cabin for the night. Even though he’d been shut down for now, Shawn passed Gus with his head held high as he headed to bed himself. He was secure in the knowledge that eventually, Stacy would admit she had the hots for him.      

\------------------------------

            It was after midnight when Gus got back to the cabin and Shawn was still up, eating chips and reading magazines by flashlight. His eyes met Gus’ for a moment before he went back to reading.

            Shawn tried to ignore Gus’ rummaging around as he got ready for bed. It was pretty late, but there had been a lot of marshmallows and Shawn figured his buddy had either stuck around until the supply was gone or Gus was stalling, hoping he would have been asleep. Soon enough, the rummaging stopped and the lower bunk was quiet.

            Shawn leaned over the top railing and looked at his friend. He hated to fight with him and they had been mad at each other long enough. It was time to make up. “Hey dude, how were the marshmallows?”

            Gus smiled and knew this was Shawn’s way of saying he was sorry. “I wish they would have had the giant kind, then you could roast them over and over again.”

            “Ah, the giant mallow.” Shawn nodded approvingly at his friend’s choice. “It would have given me more time to talk to Stacy too.” Gus’ mouth went dry and he bit his tongue. Shawn took it as a bit of jealousy. “Don’t worry buddy.” Shawn settled back into his bed and turned his flashlight off. “You’ll have the attentions of a beautiful girl someday and she’ll be as into you as Stacy is into me.”

            “I’ll look forward to it Shawn.” Gus rolled his eyes, knowing that his friend would end up sorely disappointed by the time they left Camp Tikihama this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to post the rest of the story all at once due to not knowing when I will be able to post stuff. I might go back to posting some other existing stories one chapter a day, but for now I think you have all waited long enough. :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a small spoiler for the episode "Let's get Hairy" Nothing plot wise but mostly about a little tidbit Henry mentioned about a rival. :D

**Santa Barbara** **July 1994-**

Mid-summer seemed to really bring out the crazies in Santa Barbara. Tourist season was in high gear and people were flocking to the beaches in droves. Where the people went, crime usually followed. Of the many bodies that washed up here, the cause of death more often than not tended to be something other than drowning.

            Henry knelt over the body of one such victim, carefully cataloguing the injuries. He noted the position of the body and visible signs of decomposition. A John Doe in his late thirties, muscular build, about six feet tall. The body was bloated and stunk to high heaven. His best guess put it at two maybe three days in the water. There were some rough lacerations around the arms and face as well as cuts on the hands. Dark, circular bruises indented at the center indicated some type of pointed object, one not sharp enough to break the skin. Henry narrowed his eyes. _Definitely defensive wounds._ Those kinds of cuts didn't point to a shark attack—no discernible bite pattern. The killing blow may have been the cracked skull. That by itself wasn't enough to rule the death a homicide. The skull fracture could have been caused by falling, being by hit by someone, or being tossed by the rough waves into a rock.

            A gruff voice calling from the sidelines halted his analysis. "Look at the big bad detective," Henry's arch nemesis, Butch Zielinski, sneered. He was a big man, six two with shaggy short blond hair and a large mustache. "Hey Spencer! Something smell fishy to you, eh?" Butch laughed obnoxiously and elbowed another officer next to him, eliciting a glare in his direction.

            Henry gritted his teeth. Butch had always been jealous that Henry had made detective over him and his attitude had gotten worse since Henry had become Head Detective. It wasn't that Butch was that bad of a cop, it was mostly his attitude that kept him from advancing. Hardly anyone liked him.

            Tuning out the childish taunts, Henry ordered the coroner to grab the body and forensics wrapped up with the crime scene. Just as he was leaving, Butch couldn't help but put in one more jab. "Hey, how can this guy solve a crime? He couldn't even figure out how to keep his wife." Henry stopped in his tracks and the others gathered there went silent except for the open-mouthed laughter coming from Butch. His divorce was widely known, but most people who knew him and cared to avoid his wrath avoided the subject altogether.

            Henry turned and marched up to Butch, putting a finger right at his nose. "You think you're such a hot shot? I bet that I can solve this murder before you do." He moved closer to Butch who was suddenly looking extremely unsure of himself. "Or are you chicken?"

            Butch looked around. He'd just been challenged in front of a lot of officers and SBPD staff. If he said no, he'd be ridiculed forever and Henry knew it. "Fine, Spencer. You're on!" He backed up a comfortable distance from the glowering Henry, "You better get ready to eat crow, cuz I'm gonna make you look like a fool in front of the entire department!"

            Henry smirked, “We’ll see about that. Happy hunting, Zielinski.” With that, Henry turned on his heel and strode back to his vehicle. _Butch may be a good cop, but I have one thing he doesn’t have._ Henry smiled to himself. _I have Shawn._

\--------------------------------------------

            Shawn had thought driving would be great. The freedom to hit the open road and nothing could stop him. How wrong he was. Driving had just been one more responsibility to tack onto his already full plate.

            The first thing his dad said to him after he got his license wasn’t ‘ _Good job kid!’_ or _‘Hey, let’s go look at some cars!’_ No, it was _‘Great, now you can go get a job.’_

            So there he was, in the driver’s seat of a giant hot dog, waiting for the servers to tell him to drive to the next stop. It wasn’t all bad though. He got to take the leftovers home. After two weeks though, his dad was sick of them so most of the day-old dogs went to Gus, who didn’t complain one bit.

            “Hey Shawn!” A girl’s voice called from the back of the Wiener Mobile. “Hit the next stop, we’re done here.”

            “Sure.” Shawn sighed and put the vehicle into gear. _Yeah, it’s not so bad working here. If I can forget about one of the hot dog servers stealing from the till, and the fact that the female server was cheating on her boyfriend with said thief._

            He hadn’t spent that much time around other people other than Gus or members of his family in a long time. Sure, there was school, but there he was so busy with his own work that he could blissfully ignore the indiscretions of others. Not so much at his job though. He knew far too many of this twosome's painfully intimate details and dirty secrets. It was all he could do to not march up to them and level the accusations to their faces. He really needed this job, but having to keep his mouth shut was pushing him past his boiling point. By the time he got home, he was emotionally exhausted and cranky.

            Tonight was no different. He was tired and ready to head over to Gus’ house and drown himself in snack food and video games. Unfortunately, his dad was lying in wait for him at the door—not good. It could only mean one thing. Training.

            “Oh great.” Shawn hung his head and prepared himself for whatever torture his dad intended to inflict on him today.

\-----------------------------------

            “Dad, I really don’t want to do this,” Shawn whined. “I just got home from work. I’m tired.” They were in his dad's truck on their way to the SBPD. His dad said something about looking at a body. That wasn’t in the top one hundred things Shawn really wanted to do today, it wasn’t even in the top one thousand, but as usual, his dad wasn’t listening.

            “Shawn, when you become a cop you’ll have to be able to look at a dead body and objectively discern clues from it without vomiting all over the evidence. It’s part of the job.” Henry sighed. He knew this trip wasn’t going to be easy, but all he needed to do was show Shawn the body and the boy’s natural curiosity would kick in. At least, that’s what he was counting on. The cuts on the body had him stumped. The coroner had found metal pieces embedded in some of the cuts, but the wounds didn’t make any sense.

            Resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out of this, Shawn figured he might as well find out about the body. “So what’s the deal? Was the guy murdered or what?”

            “I think so,” Henry stated, keeping his eyes on the road.

            Shawn raised an eyebrow. So far, his dad had only shown him evidence from cases that had already been wrapped up, mostly to see how well he could figure it out for himself. If his father didn’t know, that meant this was an open case. “So, you’re not sure what killed him?”

            “Yeah but—”

            “So you need my help?” Shawn grinned, trying to get his dad to admit it. “Can’t you figure this out on your own Mr. Head Detective?” Henry scratched his head. Shawn knew he only did that when he was trying to hide something. “What is it?”

            “There’s a bit of a time issue.” Henry finally admitted.

            Shawn turned to face his father. “Wait a minute? Is this a serial killer? Is there going to be another victim?”

            “What? No! Well, I don’t think so…” Apparently that wasn’t the right thing to say because the look of horror on his son’s face. Taking a deep breath Henry clarified, “Shawn, I don’t know. This is the first body we’ve found like this, but _all_ murders should be solved as soon as possible so we can find the perpetrator and stop them _before_ others die, right?”

            “Oookay.” Shawn replied uncertainly, before looking out the window and realizing they’d arrived at the station.

\--------------------------------

            Shawn hadn’t been in the SBPD for a few months. The place that had been like a second home to him seemed unfamiliar lately due to the new crop of rookies and a couple transfers. The old timers, the people who knew him, still smiled and waved. Shawn even got a smile and nod from Chief Fenich. The chief was busy on the phone and Shawn figured it had to be with the mayor after reading his lips and catching the word _sir_. The mayor was the only one Fenich called 'sir'.

            “Shawn.” Henry prodded his son and they continued to their destination. The morgue.

            Shawn had only been there a few times. He smiled when he remembered his first time. It had been on a dare from Gus who had bet him that the morgue wasn’t full of meat hooks and hanging bodies as Shawn had thought. It consisted of mostly a metal examination table surrounded by a few refrigerators, a white board, and a couple of cadaver drawers. Shawn had to pay Gus five bucks for being wrong.

            As they approached the swinging doors, Henry let out a curse. Butch Zielinski was already there talking to the coroner. “Damn it, that guy doesn’t waste any time.”

            “Huh?” Confused, Shawn looked at his father. His dad usually got along with the other officers, but the expression on his face was one of disgust and supreme hatred for this man.

            Henry shook his head. “Nothing Shawn. Just don’t say anything to him.” The detective pushed through the doors, entering the morgue with Shawn in tow.

            Butch looked up and smirked. “Look who finally decided to show up.” His eyes shifted to Shawn. “Couldn’t find a babysitter?”

            Shawn’s eyes narrowed. In less than a minute, he could see exactly why his dad hated this man. “I’m sixteen. I don’t need a babysitter, which is more than I can say for your mustache.” Shawn pointed to the cop’s shaggy lip. “What do you feed that thing? In a few years, I don’t think crumbs and spilled beer will be enough. It may just eat your face if it gets hungry.”

            Butch raised a hand to his mustache before he caught himself. He sneered at Shawn and then turned his attention to the boy's father. “You better teach your son some respect Spencer.”

            “He has respect for people that deserve it.” Henry stared right back.

            Butch broke his gaze first. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.” He poked Henry in the chest and stormed out of the morgue.

            Both Spencers watched him leave. “That guy is a grade 'A' douche bag, Dad.”

            “Tell me about it.”

            The coroner, mostly ignored for the exchange, cleared his throat to make his presence known. “Excuse me. Can I help you Detective?”

            Composing himself, Henry nodded, “I’m here to see the body that got picked up at the beach this morning. Is this it?” He indicated the covered body on the table.

            “Yes, I was just about to put it back.” The coroner unzipped the bag exposing the pale white, waterlogged skin.

            The stench was almost unbearable, but there was no way in hell that Shawn was going to puke in front of his dad. He’d learned his lesson about showing fear with the whole gun thing. It didn’t stop him from voicing his opinion. “Oh man! How long has he been dead? A year?”

            The coroner smiled. “I put the time of death at approximately three days ago. The rate of decomposition accelerated a bit once it was pulled from the water.”

            Shawn logged that information away for later. His eyes instantly found the odd, jagged, cut marks on the man’s forearms and small, shallow punctures in his torso. _What made those?_ He wondered and turned to his dad. “How did he die?”

            The coroner turned to Henry, “Is he supposed to be here?” The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble with the chief.

            “It’s fine. The chief Okayed it.” Henry wasn’t lying. The chief really had given him approval to bring Shawn here. He hadn't even had to beg, much.

            Taking Henry at his word, the coroner stated, “At first I thought it was the blow to the head that killed him but I've determined that that particular wound occurred post mortem. It's not clear if the cuts were also post mortem as well. The fatal wounds were the ones that punctured the chest cavity and hit the brachial artery in his arm. Those caused him to bleed out fairly quickly.”

            Henry watched as Shawn cocked his head and studied the body. He could almost see the gears turning in his son’s head.

            “These are defensive wounds?” Shawn looked at his dad for clarification. Henry nodded.

            Shawn continued to look at the cuts. Whatever did those was metal but a bit dull. It had to have been jagged enough to cut the skin, but not sharp enough to slice through. He figured the puncture marks were made by the same weapon. _A fork? No, the puncture wounds would be smaller and fork-like._ He closed his eyes and searched his memory for anything resembling a ridged, pointy item. After disqualifying a hammer, an ice pick, and saw, Shawn concluded it could have been only one thing.

            “Hey,” he turned to the coroner, “Were there bruises on his hands? Like he was in a fight?”

            Taken aback, the coroner inspected the hands. The bruising was visible on the knuckles. _How did I miss that?_ "Yes, the bruises appear to have occurred pre-mortem."

            Any sympathy Shawn had for the man vanished, replaced by utter contempt. “Dad, I think you should know that this guy isn’t the victim.”

            “What?” Both men said at the same time.

            “Look,” Shawn pointed to the body. “He has defensive wounds sure, but the bruising on his knuckles? That's from fighting. The bruises on the inside of his hands, well…” Shawn shuddered at the visual he imagined. “Those are from choking someone.”

            “But what are the cuts from?” Henry looked closer at the body, wondering what Shawn was getting at.

            “Self-defense one-oh-one,. Dad.” Shawn reached into his pocket and pulled out his keychain with a plastic hot dog on it. “The person used a car key. Now why would a cold-blooded murderer do that unless it was the only thing they had on them at the time?”

            Henry smiled. He’d taught his son well. “So, we need to look for someone who was hospitalized or received medical treatment for assault within the last few days.”

            “I’d say most likely a woman.” Shawn said, thoroughly disgusted. “Another guy would have probably used his fists to fight back. This guy," he pointed to the corpse, "has a rape-y vibe about him.” Shawn cast one last glance at the body before heading to the door. “I’ll be in the hall.”

            Henry was about to follow when the coroner stopped him, “You know, you have a good kid there.” He nodded in the direction Shawn left.

            Smiling, Henry nodded. “I know.”

\----------------------------------

            Shawn hung out at the station while Henry made phone calls and got warrants issued. It turned out that a woman named Jasmine Turner had been admitted to Santa Barbara General two nights ago with lacerations to her face and bruising around the neck. It took less than five minutes of questioning to get her to admit that their dead John Doe had tried to rape her and that she used her keys to fight back for all she was worth. The man had collapsed a minute later. She ran to her car and started to call the police but she thought she'd be charged with murder. Instead, she called a friend whose name she withheld. Together, they ended up dumping him off a dock.

            Henry listened to her patiently. He’d heard the same statement many times. The victim kills the attacker in a clear case of self-defense, but they panic and dispose of the body. That usually leaves the victim to face an even bigger mess than if they’d just called the police to begin with. But, when people are scared, they stop thinking. It was with a heavy heart that Henry arrested her after her confession. He promised that he would testify on her behalf at her trial. It was the least he could do considering what she had endured.

\-----------------------------------

            Shawn sat at his father’s desk in the bullpen. He was really worn out from work and even more from the images he’d been suppressing since looking at the body. _What kind of a person could do that to a lady?_ Shawn put his head in his hands. He just didn’t understand people sometimes. He really wanted something to take his mind off things. Maybe he could convince his dad to find an all-night smoothie joint—if such things even existed.

A commotion at the doors of the precinct caught his attention. He stood up and saw Butch Zielinski hauling in a large and loudly protesting man through the hall. “You got the wrong guy! I didn’t kill nobody!”

            “Shut up or I’ll make you shut up!” Butch hollered.

            The noise ended up getting Henry's attention as well, as he came up the stairs with the signed confession. “What are you doing Zielinski?!” He demanded.

            Butch pointed to the large man. “He’s a known associate of the dead guy. I got him to confess that he’d assaulted the victim in the past, so I brought him in for questioning.”

            “I said I _may_ have kicked his ass a few times but I didn't kill him!”

            “Yeah right.” Butch scoffed. “Hey Spencer, looks like you lose our little wager eh? What have you got? Nothin!”

            Henry grinned widely. “Actually, I have a woman in custody who admitted to killing him in self-defense. Got the confession right here” Butch’s eyes got wide as he saw the paper that Henry was waving. “Looks like _you_ lose.” Henry looked at the angry look on the face of the man in custody. “Have fun Zielinski. Better luck next time.”

            “What? No!” Butch called after Henry who went over to get his son.

            “C'mon Shawn, let’s go home.” Henry grabbed his coat and followed his son out to their vehicle. His job was done here.

\---------------------------

            By the time Henry got out of the station, Shawn was already sitting in the truck staring out the windshield. _Huh, kid must really want to go home_. He opened the door, got in, and turned the key. He was about to ask Shawn if he wanted to go get something to eat, as a reward for doing a good job, but Shawn's next words stopped him.

            “You used me.”

            Henry looked at his son in confusion. “What?”

            “You _used_ me. For a stupid bet.” Shawn turned to his father feeling betrayed and untrusted. “This wasn’t training, you couldn’t figure something out for yourself so you had me do all the dirty work.” Shawn scoffed. “All that stuff about solving the crime fast so there wouldn’t be any more victims was all bullshit too. You just wanted to solve it before Sam Elliot in there.” Even though Shawn was fuming, he still made time to make fun of Butch’s ridiculous mustache.

            Henry had no idea his son would have taken it that way. “Shawn you—”

            “Shut it, Dad. You can’t try and spin this one.” Shawn felt his anger surge. “If you would have told me from the beginning you needed help to win a bet, guess what? I would have helped you! That guy deserved to be taken down a notch, but don’t go treating me like I’m eight and spew some stupid excuse about responsibility because I don’t want to hear it.” With that, Shawn turned his head to stare out his window, refusing to speak to his father the rest of the way home.

                        As soon as Henry pulled the truck into the driveway and parked, Shawn got out and sprinted to the house, using his own key to let himself in. Henry watched him go, knowing that somehow, without really trying to, he’d screwed things up with his son. Badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo... Shawn isn't happy. The rift widens!
> 
> I know Henry cares, but he is like Shawn in the fact that he is REALLY competitive and sometimes forgets the consequences of using people to win.


	11. What Women Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I introduce someone familiar in this chapter. Hope everyone likes it!

**August 1994, Santa Barbara-**

            Booths of all shapes and sizes littered the halls of Leland Bosseigh High. Registration for the Fall semester had started. Since seniors got first pick at classes and extracurricular activities and this _was_ in fact their senior year, Gus insisted on being the first of the first through the doors.

            “You owe me big time for this, Gus.” Shawn whined. He had just wanted to pick his classes and leave but, as usual, Gus wanted to look at every single booth and talk to _every single_ person. All Shawn wanted to do if he had to stick around was take the free stuff. He was currently eyeing the candy bowl at the art club booth with interest.

            “Shawn this is _serious_!” Gus exclaimed, getting his friend’s attention away from the candy. “The extracurricular activities you choose now could determine which colleges accept you.”

            Shawn shook his head and looked at all the club recruiting booths. “So we study and work our asses off in _real_ classes but if we don’t join some kind of club we become piranhas, is that it?”

            “You mean ' _pariahs',_ Shawn.”

            “Don’t make up words, Gus. I can be a piranha if I want to.”

            Gus rolled his eyes but didn’t correct Shawn again.

            “There’s no way I’m going to follow all these lemurs off the cliff of conformity. Let’s go.” Shawn started to walk way. When Gus didn't join him, he turned around and saw the nervous look on his friend’s face. Sad realization hit him. His friend had been assimilated. “You didn’t.”

            “There’s nothing wrong with joining a club, Shawn.” Gus didn’t understand why Shawn was so against fitting in. Gus really liked being around people and talking to them. He'd always been the shy one, but over the past few years, he'd gained more self-confidence and really come out of his shell.

            Shawn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had been with Gus the whole time, except for the five minutes he'd taken to go pee right after choosing his classes. Gus had to have done it then, when he wouldn’t be around to stop him. “I was only in the bathroom for a few minutes! Don’t tell me you gave up hours of free time on a whim!”

            “At least I'm not wasting my time in home economics!” Gus couldn’t believe Shawn had picked that class. His friend had no idea how to cook.

            “Dude, I told you! It is a class full of chicks! Plus, free food! If I can impress them, I might actually get a date sometime this century. The best part? It will really piss off my dad.”

Shawn smiled. He couldn't wait to see the look on his father’s face when he learned he’d signed up for home economics instead of sociology like he was ordered to. Besides Home Ec, Shawn had taken as many off-the-wall classes as he could for electives. Animal Science and Drama were just some of the classes he’d signed up for, knowing his father wouldn't approve. Shawn made Gus promise not to tell so that once his father saw his first report card it would be too late to change classes. He still hadn’t forgiven or forgotten that his dad used him to settle a bet and had made it clear over the last month how unhappy he was.

            “So what spectacular club did you pick?” Shawn asked, “Wrestling? Painting? Bedazzling for beginners?”

            Gus really didn’t want to say. It was something he really wanted to do, so of course Shawn would tease him about it. “I signed up for the Pep Club.”

            Shawn’s mouth dropped open but then he smiled. “You dog! Why didn’t I think of that! You get to hang out with cheerleaders all day!”

            Frowning, Gus didn’t know if he should look this gift horse in the mouth or not. “Uh, thanks?” Gus had also signed up for the debate club, but he figured he would break that to Shawn later.

            “Any time buddy, so—” Shawn trailed off as his eyes landed on a girl at the sports teams' table. She had to be new. He'd never seen her before, and he’d seen _everyone_. She had flowing brown hair with blond highlights and the cutest nose Shawn had ever seen on a girl. If he’d read her lips right, she was currently debating with the recruiter about the movie _St. Elmo’s Fire_. He slapped one hand over his heart and grabbed Gus by the arm with the other. “Gus! I think I’m in love.”

            Gus had heard Shawn use that phrase at least once a week about every pretty girl he'd met, and been rejected by. He nodded without looking. “That’s nice, Shawn.”

            “I gotta go talk to her.” Shawn slipped away from Gus and squeezed through the crowd until he was standing right next to her. When she looked up at him, he smiled his most charming smile while holding out his hand. “Hello Abigail, I’m Shawn Spencer.”

            Abigail gave him a suspicious look. “How did you know my name? Have we met?”

            Shawn didn’t tell her that he’d glanced at her paper before the recruiter had taken it. “That’s not what’s important. What _is_ important is that you are responsible enough to realize that extracurricular activities are important for getting into your college of choice.” He glanced around to make sure Gus hadn't heard that, but his friend was busy at another booth.

            She played along with his brazen attempt at flirting. “Oh yeah, I’m sure Harvard will be _very_ interested to know I played women’s volleyball.”

            Shawn raised his eyebrows, “Women’s volleyball, really?” When Abigail nodded, he glanced at the recruiter and blurted, “You know I joined women’s volleyball too.”

            Clearly, Abigail didn't buy his claim. “You did?”

            “You did?” Flabbergasted, the recruiter standing next to Abigail began flipping through his paperwork to double check.

            Thinking fast, Shawn played it cool. “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry but I think I registered under my stage name, DJ Coldcuts.” Shawn had convinced at least half the class to call him that the year before after Gus had bet him he couldn’t. "So, Abigail, looks like we’ll be spending some time together this year.”

            She gave Shawn a skeptical smile, “We’ll see, Coldcuts.” She patted him on his chest and walked away.

            _We_ will _see._ Shawn smiled widely and grabbed an application.

            “Uh, Mr. Spencer, I’m not sure you can be in a _Woman’s_ volleyball league.” The recruiter said uncertainly.

            “Oh sure I can, they need a coach right?” Shawn shoved the completed application at him and walked off to find Gus who was probably joining his fortieth or fiftieth club.

\-----------------------------

            That afternoon when Shawn got home, he saw his dad’s truck in the driveway. _Great, just great._ That meant he’d be spending most of the evening in his room. He had absolutely no desire to talk to the old cranky pants. He opened the door quietly and almost made it up the stairs before his dad called him.

            “Shawn, get down here!”

            Arguing was useless, so he went down and stood in front of his father, arms crossed. He still had plenty of resentment left to use against his dad over the bet-settling issue. “What?”

            Henry had just gotten off work fifteen minutes earlier and had expected Shawn to be home before him. Knowing Gus though, Henry figured he’d made Shawn stay for club sign-ups. He used those few minutes to call Shawn’s principal and find out what classes his son had actually signed up for. He nearly snapped the handset in half when he found out. He’d be damned if his son would waste his education, but he would give Shawn the chance to come clean.

            “So Shawn, did you sign up for Sociology like I asked you to?”

            Shawn figured his dad would ask him about his classes. “Yeah I got it.” He sounded convincing even to himself.

            “Oh,” Henry feigned surprise, “So you didn’t go behind my back and take Baking instead.”

            The jig was up. “It’s Home Economics, Dad, not _just_ baking. A lot of people are taking it.”

            Henry snorted skeptically. “A lot of _girls_ you mean…” When Shawn started to squirm, Henry knew he'd nailed it. _Oh my God. Really?_ He couldn’t believe what an idiot his son was being. He was throwing away his education because he wanted to hang around girls all year? “Shawn, I’m not going to pay for your schooling just so you can hit on girls!”

            “Where else am I going to get to meet girls? You never let me go anywhere or do anything anymore! Besides, you are the last person that should be talking to me about girls! You couldn’t even keep Mom happy!” Shawn screamed. He usually kept that stuff bottled up, but he couldn’t take it anymore. “You drove her away, now you’re trying to do the same thing to me! Do you _want_ to end up alone? Maybe that’s ‘Henry Spencer’s Big Plan’ That way, no one will be around to get between you and what you love the most—your stupid job.”

            Henry stood. He might not tower over his son anymore, but he was not about to back down, not when it came to this. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He growled.

            “Oh _really?_ ” Shawn spat back. “I can recite, verbatim, every single argument you guys ever had—about money, about your jobs, about me—” Shawn trailed off. Pursing his lips, he started to storm off. “I gotta go. I’ll be upstairs, if you even care.”

            “What? Don’t you have to go to work?” Henry looked at his watch.

            _MAN! He never knows when to stop._ Without looking back, Shawn yelled as he stomped up the stairs, “I quit a week ago, Dad, get with the times.” Quitting wasn’t exactly the right word. When his work environment turned hostile after _somebody_ tipped off the owner of the Weiner Mobile franchise about the employees' snogging at work, he knew it was time to go.

            Henry watched his son leave. _It’s just like the kid to give up on something._

            Thirty seconds later, Shawn’s favorite song started blaring through the house. “ _Everybody wants to rule the world…”_

Henry dropped his head into his hands, realizing exactly where he'd screwed up. He should have told Shawn why Maddie left when it happened. Doing so now would just make things worse. His son already felt betrayed over the whole bet thing. If Shawn knew that he had lied to him about his mother, he might not ever forgive him, or her. _Especially_ him.

            He’d considered calling the school back and altering Shawn’s curriculum but what would it accomplish? His son would hate him even more, probably fail his classes out of spite, and they would continue not talking.

            _What do I do?_ Henry felt like he had no one to turn to. He burned his bridge with Maddie and she'd started screening her calls or he would ask her about it. There was counseling but Shawn would never go for it. _Besides, Shawn would probably just be smarter than the shrink and tell him what he wanted to hear._ He’d trained his son too well, and it was becoming a lot more difficult to get through to him because of it. _Hopefully, once he's out of this phase, the Academy will straighten him out._

            Henry headed to the kitchen to start dinner. If Shawn didn’t have his hot dog job, that meant he would have to make something for him. Food was one way to get Shawn downstairs. He wanted to spend some time with his son today, even if it meant not talking.

\--------------------------------

**September 1994, Santa Barbara:**

            Shawn blew on his whistle, “Good form Jackie!” _Really good form._ Shawn grinned and walked up to the pretty, redheaded senior who was having trouble with her serve. He grabbed her right hand and stood behind her. “One thing you gotta do though is bring your arm back further, like this.” He used his arm to bring hers farther behind her. “You get more distance that way.”

            The girl blushed but nodded. The next time she served, it was perfect. Shawn stood on the sidelines with a smug look.

            Abigail watched the scene from the bench by the net. Three weeks into the school year and she was still trying to figure Shawn Spencer out. He was good looking, when his hair wasn’t almost completely covering his face, relatively muscular, and smarter than she had first given him credit for. When she found out he was in AP classes and had been on the A-Honor roll for two years running, she didn’t believe it.

            He’d already asked her out more than once, but each time she had turned him down. If there was one thing she _could_ figure out about Shawn on her own, it was that he was a player. Not just in the fact that he was girl crazy, but for the fact that he seemed to be whatever he wanted people to think he was. No one she asked could come up with the same story about him. He was nice enough but she wanted someone real, not someone who was content at faking his way through life.

            “Looking at the eye candy?” Someone said close to her ear.

            Abigail jumped a bit and saw one of the other girls, a blonde bimbo named Mindy Howland, had snuck up on her while she was lost in thought. “Sorry, I kind of zoned out there for a second.”

            Mindy paused a moment and looked at Shawn as if he was a piece of meat. “I hear he likes you.” Abigail felt her heart flutter at those words. Mindy flicked her long blond hair back and her expression turned snobby. “But then, he seems to be into charity cases.”

            Abigail bit her tongue for the sake of peace. It seemed to her that Mindy was a bit jealous. Trying to be nonchalant about it, Abigail shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed.”

            “Oh, here he comes!” Mindy smoothed down her uniform a bit. “Watch and learn sister.”

\---------------------

Shawn sauntered straight up to Abigail, “Hey Abbs.” He noticed Mindy standing there with a sultry smile and he acknowledged her too, “Oh, hey Mindy. Did you change your hair?”

            Mindy gave a huge smile, “Yeah I did.”

            “Oh, I hadn’t noticed.” Shawn shrugged, mirroring Abigail’s words from seconds before. He noticed her smiling behind her hand.

            Mindy frowned. “But you just said—”

            Shawn ignored her and pulled Abigail off to the side away from Mindy. He could smell the crazy on her a mile away and he didn’t even have Gus’ nose. He’d seen that she was bugging Abigail and that was a quick way to get on his crap list. For some reason Shawn felt very protective of Abigail, and that was a new thing for him. He’d had crushes before, a lot of crushes, but they never seemed to work out.

            Being able to profile someone almost instantly and figure out their secrets within the first few minutes was usually a big turn off. People liked having the luxury of getting to know someone slowly, falling in love with their personality _before_ finding out about all their faults. Shawn didn’t have that luxury. Gus did though. His friend only wanted to see the good in people and ended up in a ton of relationships because of it. Most not so good. There were times when Shawn had to step in and point things out to Gus, for his own good.

            Abigail was different though, and anything different to Shawn was good, ergo she had to be good. “So Abbs, there’s a dance this weekend, and I was wondering if you wanted to have the great pleasure of going with me.”

            Abigail sighed, “Look Shawn. You seem like a great guy and all, but I don’t think you’re really my type.” She’d tried to let him down easy but she felt guilty when she saw the pain that flashed through his hazel eyes.

            “Well, what type of a guy do you want?” Shawn asked.

            _That’s the problem right there._ Shawn was trying to be someone else for her, just like he was for everyone else. Abigail straightened and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I see him.” She gave him a small smile and left the gym.

            Shawn wanted to curse up a firestorm. He had laid on all the Spencer charm he could and still came up empty. He really didn’t know what she wanted from him. “Damn it.” He grumbled and kicked the volleyball that was in his way.

            Mindy saw her chance to finally get him. “Hey there.” She stood in front of Shawn and wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the fact that Shawn was trying to squirm away from her. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing. I’ll go to the dance with you.”

            “Um… uh.” Shawn gave her a quick once over to see how he could get out of this. She apparently had some sort of promise ring on her finger, which meant she already had a boyfriend. He quickly remembered the guy he'd seen Mindy with more often than others—a dark haired kid named Eldon. “Oh look, it’s Eldon! Hey buddy!” Shawn shouted over her shoulder.

            Mindy quickly let go of him and turned to make sure her boyfriend hadn't noticed.

            Shawn took the opportunity to run as fast as he could out of the gym. Once he figured he was far enough away, he leaned up against some lockers and returned to figuring out his Abigail situation. He couldn’t talk to his dad about girls, that was out of the question. There was only one other person he could turn to. He hoped his mom was actually answering her phone calls. For some reason, she hadn’t been picking up right away when he called. He hoped she wasn’t mad at him for something, because at this point he really needed her help.


	12. Henry Spencer's Binder of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for the story is kind of a homage to a line from "The Head, the Tail, the Whole Damn Episode" where Gus tells Shawn that he's been using his dad's playbook all along and Shawn insists it was a binder. :)
> 
>  
> 
> Anywho, got a bit of a tear jerker bit in this one and spoilers for "Murder Anyone? Buller?"

**September 1994, Santa Barbara-**

            It took almost a week and a half for his mom to get back to him. A week and a half filled with awkward glances between him and Abigail in volleyball as well as Economics, the only class they shared. He was very unsure how to act around her since she’d shut him down.

            _“Goose!”_ His mother exclaimed when he answered his bright red phone. _“Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I’m getting ready to head to France! Can you believe it?”_

            “Yeah, great.” Shawn had trouble mustering up enthusiasm for her news.

            The concern in his mother’s voice was evident even over the phone. _“What’s wrong? Your father hasn’t been too hard on you has he?”_

            “No, Mom. I’ve barely talked to him in a while.” It had almost become a habit to ignore his dad. Henry spent so much time at work lately it wasn’t hard to do. “I didn’t call to talk about Dad. I need your help with something.”

            _“Anything Goose, you know that.”_

            That put a smile on his face. That’s why he loved his mom. He could tell her anything and she didn’t make him feel like he was being judged. “You see, there’s this girl...” He ignored his mother’s knowing chuckle. “…and I like her, but she isn’t into me, so I was wondering if you had any, you know, tips?”

            _“You like a girl, huh?”_

            “She’s amazing Mom. She knows my favorite movies, she’s smart and witty.” Shawn went on a while gushing about how great Abigail was before his mother stopped him.

            “ _Okay honey, I understand. Love is pretty complicated though Shawn. Have you thought about this? Are you sure she’s right for you?”_

            “I have, Mom. I’ve never liked anyone like this before!” Shawn was desperate.

            _“What I would do is try and spend some time with her. Show her who you really are sweetheart. You're smart and charming. Just be yourself, Goose. Maybe if she gets to see it, she’ll come around.”_

            Shawn mentally kicked himself, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that, but it was easier said than done. He’d been projecting what he’d wanted people to see for years. Gus was really the only one who knew the real him, and it amazed him that his friend hadn’t run away screaming in frustration years ago. _Now that I think about it, he did. His parents just kept bringing him back though._ Shawn smiled at the memory of a mini Gus yelling at him for butchering his name and storming off.

            “Alright Mom, I’ll try.”

_“Good, let me know how it goes?”_

            “I will, Mom. Have fun in France doing . . . French stuff.” Shawn envied his mother sometimes. If he ended up like his dad, stuck in a job with no real days off, he’d never get to see half the places his mom had seen in the last year.

_“Good luck Goose. Love you.”_

            She must have been in a hurry because she hung up before Shawn could tell her he loved her back. He sighed and hung up the phone, really missing her. She had visited him twice in the last year but it wasn’t enough. Talking to her over the phone wasn’t the same.

            Looking at the clock he groaned. His dad would be home soon and it was a Wednesday. Gun range day. It was his least favorite training. Not because he was scared of guns anymore, but because it was boring. There was no real challenge in it anymore and impressing people with his shooting ability had lost its appeal years ago. He’d actually stopped caring if people thought it was cool or not, which should have tipped his dad off. Shawn believed that when it came to cop training, his dad had his head firmly shoved where the sun didn’t shine and wasn’t able to get it out. _Well, better get ready. Wouldn’t want the old man to find another reason to be pissed at me._ He might actually have to talk to him then.

\-----------------------------

            Henry listened to the conversation standing outside Shawn’s bedroom door. His suspicions were confirmed. He wouldn’t be much of a detective if he didn’t know his son was sweet on someone. It did hurt that Shawn hadn't come to him to talk to about girl troubles. He was actually quite the ladies’ man before he married Maddie.

            Then it hit him. Maybe, just _maybe_ , if he helped Shawn to get his girl, he would forgive him for the huge mistake he’d made. Hearing Shawn hang up the phone, Henry snuck back into his own room, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.

            When Shawn emerged from his room Henry came back out. “Oh, Shawn. Didn’t see you there.”

            He received only a grunt in response.

            “You know, instead of going shooting today, how about we go get something to eat?”

            Shawn eyed his father suspiciously. “You sure?” He asked with raised eyebrows. “I wouldn’t want to go _soft_ or anything.” It was his father’s excuse whenever Shawn said he didn’t want to do something.

            Knowing the game his son was playing Henry shrugged, “Fine, we don’t have to go out to eat, we can go to the gun range.”

            “I didn’t say I didn’t want to go. I’m just wondering what the catch is.”

            Henry raised his hands placating his son. “No catch. I just feel like a shake.”

            Secretly happy but not wanting to show it, Shawn crossed his arms defiantly. “On one condition, I get to order whatever I want. A growing boy has got to eat you know, and a burger and fries are an important part of a teenager’s diet.”

            Smiling, Henry nodded, “Deal.”

\----------------------------

            The first part of the meal was spent in their usual silence. Shawn drummed his fingers and bounced his leg restlessly. Henry stared at his folded hands, trying to think of something he could say to break the ice and talk to Shawn about his girl problems without sending his son running for the hills.

            “So, I haven’t seen Gus around lately.” Henry started. He really hadn’t and it was odd. Usually they were joined at the hip but something had changed this year.

            “Yeah, he’s out hanging with cheerleaders all afternoon.” Shawn remarked bitterly and proceeded to make a crawly snake with his straw wrapper.

            Henry was hopeful. _Okay, I got him talking. This is good._ “Oh, so how is your assistant coaching gig working out? Don’t you get to hang out with girls all afternoon too?”

            “Oh yeah, it’s a hoot.” Shawn honestly probably would have quit by now if Abigail wasn’t on the team.

            “Come on Shawn. You even admitted you joined to pick up girls. Did you find one?”

            The food had arrived and another few silent minutes of eating passed before Shawn finally answered. “Her name is Abigail.”

            “Oh, so you like this girl huh?” Henry took a big bite of his fish sandwich and stared at Shawn, waiting for an answer.

            Shawn bit his lip and scrunched his nose in annoyance. _Am I really having this conversation? I must be desperate._ “Yeah Dad, I like her, okay? There, you happy?”

            “That depends. Does she like you back?”

            Shawn put his head on the table and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, no… I dunno. It’s complicated. She says I’m not her type.”

            “Oh.” Henry got why Shawn had been in a worse mood lately. Rejection was never something he took well, and honestly it was something that Henry had tried to protect his son from. “Shawn, think for a moment. Why do you think you like this girl so much? Is it physical attraction or something else?”

            Another thing Shawn had never thought about. He thought she was pretty, but she was smart too, and caring. “It’s not just physical. I just really like her.” He got a flash of memory—a smiling face, an encouraging person who noticed him and cared about him. “I think she reminds me of someone.” He searched for a name, not having thought about her for years. “Mandy. She reminds me of Mandy.”

            Henry choked on his fries. In the - coughing fit that ensued, he was able to hide his mini panic attack. Mandy was a name and subject he avoided whenever possible. She represented one of the biggest failures in his career and as a father.

            She was the one person who first noticed Shawn was different and had helped him finally see it too. She was murdered shortly after and in a fit of desperation he’d taken his genius son to the murder scene, and the kid had solved it. It’s what made Henry see the potential to train Shawn as a cop. However, as far as his son knew, Mandy had moved away without saying goodbye after her house was broken into and “ketchup” was thrown everywhere.

            “That’s nice.” Henry changed the subject quickly, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

            “Well, I talked to Mom. She said to let Abigail get to know the real me. I guess that could work.” Shawn shrugged and downed the rest of his shake.

            Henry nodded, his wife would say that. All girls _think_ they want honesty and openness, but that is just the start. “Yeah, that could work, but it’s not the only thing you need to do.”

            “Huh?” Shawn was confused. “What else do I need to do?”

            “Kid, there are three phases to winning over a woman. If you do this you can have any girl in the world that you want.”

            _Is my dad giving me dating advice right now?_ Shawn was mortified, but intrigued. “Okay fine. Lay it on me.”

\------------------------

            The next few days at school were nerve-wracking, not only had he been trying to avoid Abigail out of embarrassment, he’d also been dodging Mindy Howland who didn’t take rejection any better than he did. At least _he_ didn’t try to bash people over the head with a three hole punch in the middle of class though.

            Before Economics class with Abigail and before heading to the gym for volleyball, he had to calm himself down and psych himself up. Each time he remembered what his father had told him.

            _“Step one,” his dad held up one finger. ‘Treat her like a person.”_

After a few days of practicing lesson one, Abigail started turning around in her seat to look at him when class was about to end. Instead of glancing away from embarrassment like he'd been doing since she turned him down, he met her eyes and smiled warmly before turning his attention back to the teacher.

            _“But Dad, I never treat her like a_ thing _! What kind of guy do you think I am?” Shawn had been insulted at the prospect his dad didn’t think he knew how to treat a lady._

_“Shawn, this is different. You see Abigail as a girl you like right?” Shawn nodded. “So, you start acting a certain way around her. You shy away, you stutter when you talk, and do a billion other embarrassing things. Do you act that way around Gus?”_

_“No, Gus is my friend.”_

            Shawn hadn’t expected it to work so quickly, but out of the corner of his eye he saw that before turning around again herself, Abigail smiled back at him.

            Later that day during volleyball practice, Abigail made a great move and spiked the ball over the net, scoring a point. “Great job, Abbs!” Shawn shouted and clapped his hands encouragingly, “Keep it up!”

            Abigail stopped and stared at Shawn. He hadn’t said more than two words to her in weeks. Lately he seemed more . . . she tried to put her finger on it but the only word she could come up with was _relaxed._ He seemed more relaxed. After she switched sides for the next game it ended up bringing her close enough to talk to him. “Hey Shawn.” She tested the waters.

            Shawn nodded at her. “Abigail.”

            “Are you okay? You seem a little…” She searched for the right word again, “different.”

            “Well, I did eat a banana this morning. It might be all the potassium that is causing the awesomeness that you see before you.” He gestured to himself.

            Abigail laughed and went back to the game, but Shawn saw the twinkle in her eye. It was working. His dad’s advice was actually _working!_

 _“You see Gus as just another person, not someone you’re trying to impress or play things up for.” He poked Shawn in the chest. “That is what your mother means by being yourself. Relax and let Abigail get to know you without all the complications of_ trying _to get her to like you. Then, like magic, things will start to fall into place."_

\-------------------------------

            **Santa Barbara** **, December 1994-**

            Christmas was Shawn’s favorite time of the year. Not just because he got presents, but because he was the type of person who loved seeing other people’s reactions when they received gifts. It was the last day before Christmas break. Time to implement step two. He was nervous as he held the small package wrapped in red paper, and was looking for Abigail as he and Gus walked the halls.

            _His father held up two fingers. “Step two. Treat her like a princess.”_

            Gus rolled his eyes at Shawn. He knew his friend liked Abigail and didn’t understand why he was playing it so safe. He’d had at least three girlfriends himself just this semester. _Isn’t that what senior year is for?_

            “Shawn, your silence is making me uncomfortable. What’s going on?”

            _“Treat her like a princess?” Shawn asked skeptically. “Like, give her a tiara or something?”_

_His father just shook his head. “No son, not like a tiara.”_

            Shawn glanced apprehensively at Gus. He was going to think he was a sap. “Gus, don’t be Cupid’s last arrow. I just want to give Abigail a gift.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just between friends. It’s Christmas.”

            “Shawn, you haven’t gotten me anything for Christmas yet,” Gus pouted.

            Shawn huffed, annoyed over having his attention once again diverted from looking for Abigail. “That’s because it’s not Christmas yet. It’s not like I won’t see you before then. This is my last chance to give Abbs her present.” One of Gus’ ex-girlfriends caught his eye and being a good wingman, he gave his friend some fair warning. “Sarah Peterson at twelve o’clock.”

            Gus turned and flinched from her smoldering glare. “Uh, Shawn, I’ll be right back.” He said as he made a hasty retreat down the hallway.

            Shawn shook his head, glad that he didn’t have to deal with the relationship fallouts his friend had.

            “That was smooth.” Abigail’s voice made him jump and whirl around to face her. When he turned, her eyes fell to the present in his hand. “Who’s that for?”

            _“Shawn, treating someone like a princess means you start doing little things, nice things. Make them feel special, happy. Show them you care.”_

Shawn presented the little package with a flourish, “I got you this. Merry Christmas.” Her look of surprise was all he’d expected and more.

            Abigail immediately tore into the wrapping with glee. She pulled out a package of red butterfly hair clips. She had always complained that her hair got in her way during practice. These were the perfect solution. “Red is my favorite color! How did you know?”

            “Well, I noticed you tend to wear red a lot, plus your eyes.” He pointed to her face. “They tend to linger juuuuust a little bit when you see the color red.”

            She raised an eyebrow. “Like yours do with green?”

            “God, I love that you know that.”

            Abigail ran her fingers over the thoughtful present. “They’re great, Shawn. Thanks.”

            Shawn got a small kiss on the cheek before she left to go with her friends. He’d have tell his dad tonight how it went. Their relationship had healed a lot over the last few months. Amazingly, they were actually getting along pretty well.

            _“How long do I have to wait before I go to the next step?”_

_His dad chuckled wryly, “You’ll just know.”_

\----------------------------

            **Santa Barbara** **, June 1995-**

            Shawn’s hands covered Abigail’s eyes. She giggled and held her own hands out for balance. “Shawn! What is it?”

            He smiled knowingly. “You’ll just have to wait for it.”

            Graduation was only a few days away, so he knew the time to act on step three was now. The big one. He’d had quite a bit of preparation for this. For everything to fall into place, he needed keys to the school. He hatched a plan with one of his janitor friends to swear him into the Trans American Western Custodial Union Chapter 456. That way, they could give him the keys legally. Besides, washing toilets for two weeks was a small price to pay.

            _Henry’s face turned serious. He was about to impart very important wisdom on his son. “Lastly Shawn, step three. Treat her like a Greek Goddess. Go all out. Impress the hell out of her, kid. Believe it or not, once in a while, you can be pretty impressive.”_

            “Can I open my eyes now?” Abigail begged.

            He waited another couple of moments, drawing out the tension, before he moved his hands and let her see his creation.

            She gasped. They were standing in the auditorium and there was a corner that had been converted into a small movie theater, complete with snacks and a projector. Abigail had wondered why Shawn was bringing her to school on a Saturday afternoon and how he managed to get keys to the front doors, but she could say that this was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.

            Shawn led her down the aisle and ushered her to her seat. “For your viewing pleasure today we present “Curly Sue.” She mentioned months ago that it was her favorite John Hughes movie and he could see her shock that he actually remembered.

            They spent the next two hours side by side laughing and throwing popcorn at each other. It was perfect.

            When the movie was over, they both looked in each other’s eyes. “So, did you like it? I made sure the lemurs that set everything up were well paid. Good thing they work for mangos.” Abigail laughed, and it was music to Shawn’s ears. “Abbs, I was wondering. I have some tickets for the carnival at Stern’s Wharf tonight and I was wondering if you—”

            Abigail grabbed his face and kissed him right on the lips.

            When they broke apart, Shawn was still talking, too shocked by what happened to do anything else. “—could go with me at seven.”

            “Seven sounds great.” She rose and he joined her. “I’ll see you there.” She waved goodbye and walked back up the aisle.

            Shawn waited until she was all the way out of the auditorium before hopping up and down with joy. He still had to clean up the mess, but he had plenty of time to get ready for their first—was it a date? “Yes. Yes, I think it's a date.” Talking to himself as he picked up stray bits of popcorn and jujubees. “Best date _everrr_!”

_Shawn blinked letting his dad’s words sink in. “And that’s it? She’ll go out with me?”_

_“Works_ every _time.”_

\------------------------------

            Shawn burst happily into his house “Hey Dad, I’m home!” He had less than a half an hour to change and go meet Abigail. He still couldn’t believe that it had taken him almost a year to get her. _A whole year._ He was so preoccupied he didn’t immediately notice the extra person at their kitchen table. He had to stop halfway up the stairs before he realized it. “Mom?”

            He hesitantly walked back to the kitchen and saw both his mom and dad sitting at the table. “Mom! You’re here!” His happiness was cut short after reading the looks on both his parent’s faces. The distraught and defeated look on his father’s, and his mother’s worried expression didn’t bode well. That was when his gaze dropped to the papers that were between them. Papers that were already signed and dated. “No! Mom, Dad why!?” Shawn had always held out hope, some hope that they would get back together. That they would realize their stupid mistake and make up.

            Henry’s face pinched in empathy for his son. Maddie had mentioned that she’d picked them up, but he wasn’t expecting her to just show up with them out of the blue. She blamed it on her busy schedule and having only a couple days to spare before she had to leave again. He hadn’t had time to sit down and talk to Shawn about any of it.

            Shawn’s brain shut down as they tried to explain their reasoning to him. The phrases, “Best for everyone” and “Grown apart” snuck through his disbelieving haze. The last thing his father said caught his attention and cut him to the quick. “You should go with your mother.”

            Shawn’s mouth dropped open and he couldn’t breathe. _I thought we were doing better and now he doesn’t want me? What did I do wrong?_ He looked at his mother, his mouth still hanging open in shock. _What did_ we _do wrong?_ His mind flashed back to a fight he’d had with his dad and realized that he’d been right. His dad cared more about his job than them, and he was sending Shawn away. Right when he’d finally gotten Abigail too!

            Rising quickly he knocked over the chair he was sitting in and ran out the door.

            “SHAWN! Get back here!” Henry hollered after him and got up to chase him.

            Maddie shook her head sadly. “Give him some time to process everything.”

            Henry turned to her with a glare. “Time to _process?_ He doesn’t have time to process! You leave in two days! He’s going to miss graduation Madeleine.” He was regretting his decision to let her take him. He should have said no, but he didn’t want to put Shawn through the torture of having to choose which parent he liked best. He’d never wish that on anyone, let alone his own son.

            “I’ll help you pack up his things,” Maddie said quietly.

            “Thanks.” Henry swallowed the lump that had been slowly building in his throat. Shawn would only be leaving for a little bit, until he came back for college and police training, but it felt like he was losing his son all the same.

\-------------------------------

            Shawn rode his bike as fast as he could to the pier. He debated running away but Henry would just find him and lecture him anyway. _Why did everything have to go so wrong?!_

            He made it to the pier in record time. Abigail was already there, pacing back and forth in her cute little jean jacket and she had the butterfly clips he’d given her for Christmas in her hair. She was beautiful. _I could just demand to stay. They can’t make me go if I don’t want to._ Then he remembered the look on his dad’s face as he pretty much said that he didn’t want him anymore.

            As the battle inside Shawn raged, time passed and Abigail got more restless. Shawn knew he should go to her, let her know what was happening, have her convince him to stay for her, but he didn’t. He sat and watched as he let the one girl he ever cared about walk away. He couldn’t be there for her now anyway and he didn’t want to string her along.

            Shawn cleared his throat and swallowed hard. So much was going to change in the next few days anyway. Despite a lot of whining, Gus’ parents were sending him to Jamaica for the summer before he started college. That meant he wouldn't get to see much of his friend anyhow. He’d still tell him about leaving, but they’d just be saying goodbye a few days sooner is all.

            _What about graduation?_ Shawn wondered. He’d worked his ass off and had actually been named valedictorian. He had the speech memorized and everything. If he didn’t show up it would go to the next person in line, probably Gus. So no big loss there.

            After an hour, Abigail seemed to give up. Hugging herself, she walked off the peer and to her bike. She gave one last look around before leaving. Her face was wet from crying.

            Shawn shook his head. Person, princess, Greek Goddess. _You lied to me dad. You said there were only three steps. Eventually, you hurt the ones you love and have to start treating them like a person again._ “Step four.” He turned his bike around and headed back to his dad’s house. The unused carnival tickets were tucked safely in his pocket, forever unused. “Goodbye, Abigail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to tackle some of the confusing parts of Shawn's history in this one and hopefully all the inconsistencies of Henry somehow leaving Shawn but also getting the house has been smoothed out a bit. It is also pretty much the death throes of Shawn and Henry's relationship for a while :(
> 
> So much happened at this point for Shawn it was a challenge fitting the pieces together and kind of taking away Shawn's reasons for sticking around.
> 
>  
> 
> Hint for the next chapter: Coming up, Summer of 1995... guess who?


	13. Black, White, and Red All Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, check out my "prelude" to this chapter titled. "A Most Admirable Foe" 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> *Spoilers for all the Yin/Yang episodes.*

**Santa Barbara** **: July 1995**

            Henry bowed his head and tried to focus on the pages in front of him. The words stared back at him but his mind kept drifting. It was going to be one of those days. He'd had a few of them over the last month.

            Focus.

            That's something he'd always tried to instill in his son, and now he could barely manage to do so himself. He drifted back and forth between self-recrimination and anger over Maddie's betrayal. _God, has it only been a month since they left?_

            "Hey, Henry."

            Looking up, Henry saw his friend Brett Conners. He forced himself to put on a smile. "Hey, Brett. We still on for lunch today?"

            "Yeah, definitely." He frowned when he saw the weariness in Henry's eyes. "How you holding up?"

            Henry sighed. Everyone knew about his divorce. A lot of the cops kept asking how he was doing, and when Shawn was coming back. It would still be another couple months before his son returned for college. That knowledge, along with having to go home to an empty house, made each day drag out.. "I'm doing okay. How's Trish? Is she starting her senior year?"

            It took Brett a few seconds to answer. He appeared to struggle a bit with his answer "Yeah, I think so. She's really excited."

            Henry nodded. _At least someone’s life is going right._ "So what brings you over? Getting tired of hanging out with office stiffs all day?" As captain, Brett had to do a lot more bureaucratic duties than Henry had as a detective. Henry didn't know if he'd be able to stay sane if he had to prepare schedules and reports all with internal affairs constantly on his ass.

            Smiling, Brett shook his head. "No, it's not that Henry. I just—," his smile faltered before disappearing altogether, "I wanted you to be the first to know."

            "Know what? Did something happen?" Henry hadn't heard anything and

            "I'm retiring in a few weeks Henry. I put in my notice today."

            That was probably the last thing Henry thought would ever come out of Conners' mouth. Brett was only fifty-two, fifteen years older than he was. Retirement was for _old_ cops, cops who were in their mid-sixties like former chief Wilkins, not Conners. Brett still had _years_ to go.

"Why? I thought you liked your job?"

            Conners grimaced. He didn't want to have to explain it here but Henry would never let it go at this point. That's what made him a great cop—his tenacity. He grabbed a chair and brought it over to sit next to Henry. "I found something out at the doctor's today." He leaned in close and whispered. "They call it Alzheimer's. My uncle on my dad's side had it, and apparently I've got it too."

            "Alzheimer's? You're only fifty-two." Henry whispered back.

            "It's early onset something or other." Brett leaned back and waved his hand dismissively, not remembering the exact words the doctor used. "My daughter and wife had noticed things were off with me the last few months and they asked me to go see a doctor. He said it isn't that bad yet, but I can't have this affecting my work. I forget a piece of evidence and who knows what could happen? A mistake could get someone killed Henry, and I don't want that on my conscience." He slumped forward in his seat, burying his face in his hands.

            Honored that Brett had trusted him enough to tell him first, Henry laid a hand on his shoulder to give whatever comfort he could.

            The moment was interrupted when an officer rushed past Henry's desk heading straight for the chief's office. Both he and Brett looked up. Having worked in the precinct for so long, they knew instinctively something big had happened. The atmosphere crackled with tension as other officers joined in the commotion, moving to see what was going on.

            "What is it?" Henry asked.

            Brett raised an eyebrow. "Whatever it is, it's bad." He nodded in the direction of Chief Fenich. The chief's usually cheerful expression had twisted into a scowl of rage as he read what he'd been handed.

            Seconds later, the chief stormed out, calling for everyone to form up in the bullpen. He pointed to one of the officers and growled, “Get me a camera, _now!_ ” The officer dashed out, returning straight away with a Polaroid.

            While everyone present formed up around the bull pen, Chief Fenich snapped pictures of the materials handed to him moments before. Unable to see most of what the chief was doing, Henry craned his head above the crowd. After the picture taking stopped, the chief placed a manila envelope sealed with a Yin Yang symbol in an evidence bag. He handed it to the closest officer with instructions to have it examined immediately.

_What in the world?_

            Fenich gathered up the pictures and quickly posted them on the board along with a timer on a countdown, currently at one hour and thirty-five minutes.

            “People listen up!” He shouted to get everyone’s attention. “We just received a package containing two notes from an individual calling himself Mr. Yang. He’s threatening to kill someone before the time on this stopwatch runs out.”

Nervous murmuring accompanied the announcement.

            “What is the world coming to Henry?” Brett shook his head.

            Henry shrugged. “Could be just some crackpot wanting attention.”

“Now, I know a lot of you might be wondering if this is legit. Maybe it isn't, but I believe we must take it seriously. We can’t assume this perp won't follow through with their threat. The note contains instructions and a riddle. I need everyone’s help to try and solve this.” He grabbed the snapshot of the instructions and started to read:

            A challenge is issued,

            A life is at stake.

            My symbol means balance,

            To give and to take.

            Catch me if you can,

            For failure means death.

            Her time now grows shorter,

            With each and every breath.

            -Mr. Yang

            Fenich slammed the picture down angrily, “This tells us that the victim is female. I've tasked Officer Duritz with checking to see if we've had any reports of missing women in the area." He picked up the next photo. "The riddle itself looks to be written in blood. I'm having the lab analyze it now but we can’t wait for the results to come back. We have to figure this out now, and time is running out.” He pointed to the timer and read the riddle.

            Send in the Calvary,

            In a box she waits.

            Your next clue is hidden,

            Beyond "the cemetery gates."

            “Does anyone have anything? Anything that could help us figure out where she is?” Chief Fenich looked around the bullpen expectantly.

            The room fell silent and then a few people raised their hands. Henry put his up as well. Fenich pointed in his direction. “Yes Spencer?”

            “The C is capitalized in Calvary right?” Fenich nodded. “Calvary Cemetery. It’s less than ten minutes from here. It may be a play on words Chief. Calvary... cavalry. The clue may be telling us to go there"

            “Get down there now, Henry.” The chief pointed to three more officers. “You guys go with him. Let me know the second you find _anything._ ”

            “Yes sir.” Henry nodded and turned to Brett, “We’ll have lunch next time buddy.”

            “Go find her Henry.”

            He set the timer on his watch to match the one hanging on the board and was out the door in less than two minutes. _The chief is right. We don’t have much time._ As he descended the stairs of the precinct, he ran into a young woman with an armful of file folders. He shot her a quick glance and apologized. She had dark, curly, shoulder length hair, and large brown eyes. "Sorry, miss."

            She seemed surprised that he'd noticed her but recovered and gave him a toothy grin. For some reason it sent shivers up his spine. "No problem officer. Good luck."

\---------------------------------------

            The group of officers got to the cemetery with fifty-five minutes left on the clock. They spread out, searching for anything that might be related to the riddle. Fifteen minutes later, they still had nothing. Henry radioed the chief with the news. "Chief, there's nothing here. It might be a hoax. Did forensics come back with anything on the note?"

            "I'm just getting the report now." The radio went silent for a moment. "Henry, it's fish blood."

            " _Fish_ blood!?" Henry exclaimed. "Why the heck would someone use fish blood to—" He stopped and checked the copy of the picture. "That doesn’t make sense. Did they say what kind of fish blood it was?"

            Henry heard rustling of papers, "The report says it is from the family [Clupeidae](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clupeidae)."

            Henry paused, “Where have I heard that before?” He was an avid fisherman and knew a lot of the different species in the area. “[Clupeidae](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clupeidae)….Oh no." Henry smacked himself in the head. “John, the [Clupeidae](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clupeidae) family is _herring!_ The riddle wasn’t a clue, it was a distraction!”

            Henry heard the bitterness in the chief's voice as the meaning of his words set in. "Get your ass back to the station, Spencer!"

            Henry turned around and hollered to his team, "Get back here! It was a trick! A goddamned red herring!" Henry had been played. Their adversary knew the cops would head to the cemetery, wasting precious time.

            He looked at the riddle again. “Beyond the “cemetery gates.” He mumbled to himself before finally getting it. The meaning was literal. There was another clue beyond the words “Cemetery gates.” He radioed the information to the chief and told them to look farther down the page, maybe even in invisible ink. As he turned on the siren and raced back to the station he wanted to scream. The clue had been _right_ in their hands the whole time and he hadn’t seen it.

\--------------------------------------

            The clue did end up being in invisible ink, but to their surprise it hadn't been a clue at all. It was an address. A _specific_ address they could have driven to in time, had they found it in the first place. The timer had gone off only ten minutes before when they’d finally arrived.

            Another letter waited for them on a stick in the ground, right over the loose dirt where they needed to dig.

            The note said they were already too late, and they were. Five minutes later they unearthed the body of the kidnapped woman. She'd suffocated before they got to her. Her lips were blue and her hands were bloody from scratching to get out of the box she'd been trapped in. By panicking, she had hastened her own death. The killer had counted on that too.

            "Son of a bitch!" Officer Duritz cursed loudly as he read the letter. Henry could tell the younger man was fighting the urge to crumple the paper. Looking over Duritz's shoulder, he read the note, written with letters clipped from magazine pages.

            _Too late. Better luck next time detectives._

            "There better not be a next time." Henry growled, stalking back to his car. " _What_ is _this world coming to"?_ Bret Conners' words came back to him.For the first time in a month, he was glad Shawn wasn't around. If the letter was a promise of things to come, Santa Barbara had just become a very dangerous place to live.

\---------------------------------

**San Pedro** **, CA** **: July 1995**

It hurt at first, but not as much as Shawn thought it would. He did have to close his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the needle as it descended towards his earlobe. Henry would kill him for getting a piercing. _He’s not here though is he?_ He reveled in his smugness, until the needle he’d almost forgotten about pushed through. He hissed in pain but before he knew it, it was over and he was the proud owner of an earring.

            His mom would definitely notice, but she wouldn’t say anything. If he was honest with himself, he'd have to admit that even though he was living with his mom, he still didn’t see very much of her. They'd already spent a week and a half in New York while he waited to get his passport, then it was on to Thailand for two weeks. He easily picked up the Thai swear words, then after a call to Gus, who was visiting his grandparents in Jamaica for the summer, his friend knew them too.

            Gus was having fun with his grandparents. Joy had already left for college a couple years before, but his younger brother was still there. Shawn had only met him once or twice since he was five but Gus said he was pretty cool.

            After Thailand, his mother brought him back to California for what was supposed to be a month long tour of the major precincts to discuss therapy techniques for Job-Acquired Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He’d gone stir crazy after a few days of being left in a hotel room all by himself, so he found a temporary job. Not just any job though. The coolest job ever. A lifeguard.

            Growing up next to the ocean, he knew how to swim very well. Being paid to tan and watch girls all day was a dream come true. _Freedom never felt so good._

            He had friends too, friends who knew _nothing_ about him, his so-called gift, or his intelligence. For once in his life, his baggage was gone. Mostly.

People were always asking why he kept a tank top on all the time. Using a few of his well-crafted excuses and distractions, he was able to get out of having to give a direct answer. The scar from his heart surgery had faded over the years, but it was still a lot shinier than the rest of his skin, and never properly tanned anyway.

            He did think about Henry every once and a while. After sending him away, Shawn refused to think of him as "dad" anymore. It was too painful. The old man had called a couple times, but he wouldn't speak to him. Not after what he did to his mom, and to him.

            In another month or so, he'd have to go back to Henry's and enroll in some college courses. He hoped he could convince his mom to let him stay with her and wait to enroll in the following semester. Why not? He'd been a year ahead in high school. Waiting another half-year wouldn't matter much. She agreed to think about it. That was something at least.

            "There, all done." The salesperson smiled and checked out his work. He grabbed a mirror and let Shawn see his new silver loop.

            "Sweeeeet." Shawn grinned and flicked the little ring. He paid for the service and stepped out into the sunlight. His mom wouldn't be back at the hotel for a few more hours. He had no idea what he wanted to do next. Surfing sounded good and there was no one around to make him count towels _or_ hats on the beach.

\-----------------------------------

            **Santa Barbara** **: September 1995-**

            Henry felt utterly defeated as he stared at the numerous files in front of him that signified each and every failure. Not only had they just failed, they’d failed miserably, again and again. Six times in all. They'd come so close the last couple times, but each victim slipped through their grasp and each time the riddles became more elaborate.

            The last had been the worst, especially in Henry's opinion. A kid, a fifteen-year old boy. If that wasn't bad enough, one of his officers was personally called out to find him.

            He was relatively new, one of the two they’d gotten practically fresh out of the academy. Henry had argued that he wasn’t ready, but Fenich had sent Nick Conforth out anyway, because at that point it was “all hands on deck.” Despite Henry’s reservations, the kid hadn't been half bad. If not for him, they wouldn't have gotten as close as they had for victims four and five. The kid was patient and took his time figuring out each clue.

            It had to have been the reason the killer's sixth note mentioned him by name. He was good. Too good, and it cost him in the end. The clues became progressively harder and the killer had started to aim the riddles specifically at Conforth , eliminating any and all help the other officers could have given him.

            After the kid died, despite some great work by the young officer, it ended up breaking him. Nick Conforth blamed himself and had been unable to work for weeks. Fenich gave him all the time off he needed, but Henry knew the look. The young man was finished, shell-shocked. A potentially great career had been destroyed.

            The rest of the station hadn’t fared any better. Instances of police violence were up as frustrated officers snapped at the slightest provocation. One actually pulled a gun on a civilian who was walking buy and reaching for his wallet. No one knew who Mr. Yang was or what he looked like, so to the traumatized officers at the SBPD, everyone became a suspect.

\----------------------------

            Chief Fenich hung up the phone with a sigh. Having one of his officers point his weapon at an unarmed civilian forced him to make a decision about bringing in a police psychologist. He knew Henry wouldn't like his decision, but personal issues would have to be put aside. His station was coming apart at the seams and he had to do something. He owed it to Henry to talk to him first though, to avoid any conflict of interest.

            He walked out of his office and looked around. Henry was at his desk looking over files. Fenich liked his dedication, but the guy was going to burn out quick at this rate. Before his wife and kid left, he was intense. Now, he was just plain obsessed.

“Henry?”

Henry looked up wearily. “Hey, John.” Fenich calling him by his first name meant that they were about to have a personal conversation. They were friends long before Fenich became chief.

            “Henry, I need to tell you something. I know you of all people have seen the stress everyone is under.”

            Henry nodded. “We're all just waiting for the next shoe to drop.”

            Fenich nodded and took a deep breath, “That's why I've decided to call in some outside help.”

            Henry’s heart sank as he got the gist of Fenich's statement. Maddie. “Of course. If you think she can help.”

            “I just wanted to make sure you knew she was coming. I’m actually surprised Shawn isn’t back yet.” Chief Fenich had been wondering if the young man was going to start college like he’d heard Henry mention. He already had a letter of recommendation typed up for Shawn, ready to send to the academy as soon as the young man applied.

            “The kid convinced his mom to wait a semester. I think it’s a load of crap, Shawn needs motivation. He’s probably been doing nothing but eating and watching movies for the last four months.”

            The chief pursed his lips. “At any rate, she will be here in less than a week, and as your chief, I think you should get some help too.” Henry opened his mouth to argue but Fenich’s hand silenced him. “You were there too. You saw the bodies, chased the clues. You are in this as much as anyone else is. You've seen Conforth. The kid can barely handle field duty, let alone hold a gun straight anymore.” He watched as Henry’s gaze dropped to his lap. “I understand you not wanting to go to your ex-wife, but you need to go to _someone_ , Henry. You can’t keep this stuff bottled up forever.”

            Henry nodded and Fenich figured he had gotten through to him. “All right, John. I’ll go see someone.”

            The chief took him at his word and returned to his office.

\--------------------------------

            Leaning back in his chair, Henry considered the chief's words and tried to think who might be good to talk to. He sure as hell wasn’t going to see Maddie about his problems. The station had its own staff psychologist now, a man named Doug Divette. He'd taken over Maddie's position after she left town. Maybe he’d go see him instead. “Better than nothing.” He grumbled and gathered his paperwork, ready to go home, once again, to an empty house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pretty exhausting chapter to write and for my beta Aakira to edit. Sorry about the huge wait but we wanted to get it just right.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope everyone liked what I put in for Nick Conforth, in case you need a refresher he was the officer who trained Shawn and Gus when they went to the academy. He went to the academy with Lassiter (Hint on who the second rookie is) and I figured he couldn't have started out so shell shocked or they wouldn't have let him in the academy in the first place. I figured something had to have happened to him and when I was writing this chapter I figured this was probably it.
> 
> Also, I figured this was about the time that Brett Conners would probably have quit due to his condition. Alzheimer's isn't an over night thing, even early onset so I figured it would have taken him a while to get to the condition he was in during "Forget Me Not" but he would still show signs of it early on.


	14. Dysfunctional Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Spoiler for a few episodes, gonna explain my timeline reasoning due to some questions I received.) I did have a guest question my timeline and I completely understand. It took a lot of mapping out to figure out 1995 for Shawn. In Season 3 episode 1- "Ghosts" Shawn tells his mom that Henry abandoned them, but got the house and left his mom to pick up the pieces, not knowing that Maddie left Henry. So in order for that to happen, Shawn had to go with his mom. Shawn also missed his graduation so I figured that was why.
> 
> Then in the season 3 finale, Maddie says she came back for the Yang murder psych evals, which was the summer of 1995. Season 7's Cirque Du Soul says that the Car theft happened in October, so I did my best to come up with a story line that incorporated these. Took a lot of tweaking but I do try to keep this series as cannon as humanly possible. Hard to do when the Psych writers love to contradict themselves. Lol. I just do what I can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very close to the endgame. I hope you like the little surprises I threw in the chapter. People have been asking for it and I aim to please :)
> 
> Only one more chapter after this guys. Things are starting to come to a head for poor Shawn.

**Santa Barbara- September 1995-**

 

            Shawn was pissed. Beyond pissed. There was no word in the English language that could possibly portray how upset he was at that moment. He would have made one up if he hadn't been so massively pissed.

            “Mom, you _know_ this is a bad idea, right?”

            “Goose, the fact that your father is going to be there is no excuse for me not to do my job. I was called in as a favor to Chief Fenich and we’re going.”

            Shawn slouched in the passenger seat and covered his face with his hands. “At _least_ let me stay with you.”

            “You have a perfectly good place to stay at the house. I don’t understand what is up between you and your father lately. Did he do something to you?” She looked at her son as they stopped at the light, searching for some clue as to why Shawn had refused to talk to Henry for so many months.

            “It’s more of what he didn’t do,” Shawn mumbled, mostly to himself. _He didn’t want me. He didn’t even try to keep me or keep mom._

            “What? I didn't hear what you said.”

            Shawn shook his head. “Nothing," he didn't want to upset her, "I just had a lot of fun this summer.”

            She smiled. “I had a lot of fun too. Now, let’s go see your father.”

            “Great.” He stared out the window and began counting trees, people—with and without hats—and other random objects to get back into the habit. Lord knows his father wouldn’t want him going “soft.”

\-----------------------------------

            Henry had still been at the station when he'd gotten the call. Shawn and Maddie would be arriving in less than half an hour. _So much for advanced warning._ He’d hoped to get the house cleaned up before Shawn got there. Maddie would stay at a hotel, but Shawn would be staying with him while they were in town. The fact that Shawn hadn’t spoken more than three words to him since June put him on edge. It was the most time they’d been apart. Even camp hadn't taken his son away for this long.

            He rushed through his paperwork and headed for the door, bumping into a uniformed officer on the way. “Watch it!” Henry snapped at the young man.

            The officer’s bright blue eyes widened when he saw who’d run into him. Henry Spencer was a legend in the precinct already. “Oh, sorry I was just…” The officer started but they were interrupted by the chief.

            “Henry, glad I caught you. I just wanted to introduce you to our newest officer he just came in a couple months ago and I don’t believe you have been formally introduced.” Fenich gestured at the tall, black-haired, mustached rookie.

            The young officer extended his hand. “Carlton Lassiter. It’s a pleasure to meet you Detective and might I say that the Chief has said nothing but good things about you.”

            _Suck up._ Henry understood the politics but didn’t have time to chat. He shook the officer's hand and turned to Fenich. “I have to get home. Maddie and Shawn are on their way. I’m sure she’ll be here later this afternoon. I’ll be back too once I get my son settled.”

            The chief nodded. “Go take care of your boy.”

Henry hurried out of the station, leaving the two men staring after him. Fenich knew his situation. The rookie? Time would tell. First impressions were hard things to overcome, especially in his book.

           

\------------------------------------------------

            When Henry arrived, Shawn and Maddie were already waiting for him. The first thing he noticed different about Shawn is that he looked very tan and a bit more lean, which was surprising because Henry had thought that all Shawn would be doing is sitting around hotel rooms all day.

            The second thing he noticed was the earring. Shawn had always wanted one but Henry had put his foot down. He didn't want his son looking like a punk when he showed up at the academy. Shawn must have conned his mother into letting him get it.

“Shawn, I see you still have all your fingers. You couldn’t dial a phone and give your old man a call?” Granted, the attempt to cover his disapproval with humor was pretty lame, but he didn't expect the shockingly spiteful expression on his son’s face.

            “Sorry, I lost all my fingers in a terrible accident two days after you sent me away. They just managed to reattach them today. I'm officially a medical miracle.”

There was no humor in Shawn’s voice, only venom. Henry’s eyes narrowed.

            Maddie jumped in, interrupting their glare fest. “Henry, good to see you. Are you going to invite us in?”

            Tearing his eyes away from his son, Henry faltered a bit. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around Maddie _asking_ to go into the house. “Uh… yeah sure.” He opened the door and moved out of the way.

            Shawn dashed past him and ran up the stairs to his room leaving him alone with Maddie. “What’s wrong with him?”

            Looking up the stairs, Maddie shrugged her shoulders. “He'll miss his friends. The last place we stopped he became a lifeguard. He was really good at it too.”

            Henry snorted. “Well he should be. The kid’s known how to swim since he was two and CPR since he was five.”

            An awkward silence followed. It seemed neither of them knew what to say next. The only thing they had in common now was Shawn, so there wasn’t much to talk about.

            “I suppose I'd better go check in at the station. I’ll bring in Shawn’s things.” Maddie started towards the door.

            “I’ll help.” Henry said quickly, joining her.

            As they gathered Shawn’s luggage, Henry caught Maddie studying him. She hadn’t seen him much in the two years since their separation but he knew he looked so much older now. There were some deeper lines on his face and maybe less hair than before. He was really starting to look like his dad, probably because of all the stress he’d been under lately.

            She stopped and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, which surprised him. “Henry, are you going to be okay? Did you find someone to talk to?”

            Getting the gist of what Maddie was asking, he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. There are others worse than me.” She nodded. They retrieved the rest of Shawn's stuff in silence. When they finished, she smiled sadly and left without another word.

\-----------------------------------

            Shawn watched his mother go from his bedroom window and angrily knocked over a stack of magazines. _How can she just leave me here?_ He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall. He wondered how much begging his mom had to do to get Henry to take him back. They just kept passing him around back and forth, probably because no one really wanted him, but didn’t want to make the other feel bad about not wanting him.

            “I feel like a fruitcake.” He said aloud then realized the other implication of his words.

            “Shawn come down here and get something to eat!” His dad yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

            “I already ate!” Shawn yelled back.

            “COME DOWN!”

            “NO!”

            “Shawn Henry Spencer you get down here right now!”

            His dad never used his middle name unless he really meant it. Shawn didn’t want to be grounded within the first five minutes of being home so he reluctantly went down stairs.

            Shawn knew being back with his father after four months of freedom would be pure hell. He’d had so much independence when it was just him and his mom. Now he felt like his whole life was once again, for lack of a better word, policed. Henry would waste no time pushing him back into training mode and talk about nothing else but him going to the academy as soon as he was eighteen. Meanwhile, his mom would spend most of her time at the station doing therapy sessions with the officers, so he'd probably only got to see her probably once every couple days.

            It didn’t help that Gus was off at college and he had no one to talk to. Sure he talked to Gus on the phone often enough, but it wasn't the same. When he was being an ass Gus could just hang up on him, and that ruined half the fun.

            Henry looked up as his son came in. "Grab a plate. Pizza will be ready in a few minutes."

            _"Henry Spencer's famous cooking."_ Shawn grumbled and sat down at the kitchen table. If it wasn't boxed, frozen, or grilled, it wouldn't be edible. These next couple of weeks were going to be great, just _great._

\-------------------------------

**Santa Barbara- October 1995,**

            "All right Joe, glad I could help." Maddie ushered Officer Duritz out of her temporary office. She'd known him since he was a rookie. It was sad to see so many good officers so overwrought and disturbed. She had cleared most of them to return to duty, but a few would need additional therapy.

            She'd been in Santa Barbara almost two weeks but with another assignment on the East coast, would have to leave soon. Her job kept her on the move. Traveling was what she'd always wanted to do and it was wonderful.

            "Thanks, Dr. Spencer." Duritz gave her a sad smile. "Tell Shawn I said hi."

            As she watched him leave, Maddie spied a young man standing in the middle of the bullpen looking quite out of place. He was probably only a few years older than Shawn was. He wore half-rimless Buddy Holly-esque thick glasses, his sandy blond hair was straight and almost plastered to his head, and he had the longest eyelashes on a man that Maddie had ever seen. He kept approaching officers as if to ask them something, but each time the officers would brush right past him as if he wasn't there.

            Stopping a passing detective, Maddie asked, "Who is that man? Why is everyone ignoring him?"

            The detective looked over his shoulder. "Oh, _him_. He's some college kid with a stick up his ass about the Yang killings. Says he's doing his master's thesis on it. He's been in here every week. We gave him the time of day at first but the dude is just creepy and we don't need that around here right now."

            "Can't you ask him to leave?"

            The detective shook his head. "His teacher is friends with the chief so Fenich gave him permission to be here." With one last sneer the detective walked off.

            Her curiosity piqued, Maddie approached the young man, noticing that his blue eyes brightened when he looked at her. Most likely because she was the first person to pay any attention to him. "Hello, I'm—"

            "Dr. Spencer, department psychologist." He finished for her, daintily holding up his hand.

            Maddie didn't know if he wanted his hand kissed or shaken by the way he held it. She decided to shake it, but it was awkward. _How did he know who she was?_ "Um, yes that's correct."

            The young man answered her unspoken question. "I've heard the talk. You're doing the psych evals for the Yang murders." He leaned forward a bit too closely, "We should get together."

            Maddie backed off a bit, unsure of his intentions, "What?"

            Before the young man could answer, a resounding "MOM!" echoed through the station. Shawn was running straight towards her, clearly distressed.

            Maddie turned back to the young man, "I'm sorry, I have to deal with this Mr.—what did you say your name was?"

            "Mar—"

Shawn cut off the introduction, inserting himself between her and the strange young man.

            "Sorry, but I need to talk to my mom—" Shawn paused as he took in the young man's appearance. "Nice glasses, Brian Johnson..."

It took her a minute to make the connection to Shawn's favorite eighties movie, but when she did, she agreed—the young man _was_ almost a dead ringer for the nerdy kid from _The Breakfast Club._

After delivering the gibe, Shawn grabbed her hand and dragged her into an empty office.

            "Goose! That was rude."

            He ignored her remark, standing his ground. "Dad told me today that you're leaving without me. _Why?_ "

            Seeing the hurt in her son's eyes tore her up inside, but his moving around with her wasn't going to work in the long run for either of them. He needed to stay here and go to college like he'd planned, not keep putting it off just because he was having fun. "Goose, your father and I decided it would be best if you stayed in one place for a while."

            Shawn threw his hands up and started to pace. "This is so _unfair!_ I don't want to stay here! There's nothing to do."

            "Don't raise your voice Shawn. Your father just wants what's best for you."

            Shawn shook his head. "He never lets me do anything fun. I want to stay with you! _Please,_ Mom." He begged.

            She pulled her son into a hug. "I'm sorry Goose. Life on the road isn't for everyone. You're in a critical part of your life. You need stability and I can't give that to you right now with work pulling me away all the time."

            Shawn sniffed and pulled away. "You sound like a psychologist."

            Maddie smiled. _There's his humor._ "We'll talk about it more later okay?" Shawn nodded and she gave him a reassuring smile. He would eventually understand it was best for him. Her son was a smart young man, so she knew he’d be alright.

She sent him off with a kiss and an 'I love you' before she went back into the office to wait for her next appointment.

\-----------------------------------

Shawn trudged towards the station doors. _That's just great. Henry figuring out what's best for me._

            "Shawn!"

            He turned towards the sound of his name. Chief Fenich walked up and shook his hand. "How are you? It's been a while."

            He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. What's up?"

            "Henry has been saying you're going to go to the academy this spring. I have a recommendation letter already written for you."

The chief smiled at him. Not wanting to be rude, Shawn put on his best fake grin. "Wow, that's great. Yeah, he's wanted me to go forever."

            Fenich looked around to make sure no one was listening before asking, "Did you ever tell him about your DET score?"

            "No. I still don't know if I'm going to tell him. You know how he is."

            The chief's smile faded. "All right son. But he'll find out soon enough when you take it for real." He slapped Shawn on the back. "Can't wait to see you in a uniform."

            Shawn grinned again. "Yeah. Thanks for everything." Someone else caught the chief's attention. Seeing his chance to duck out, Shawn turned around and started for the door.

            He passed a desk where an officer sat reading a case file. Something in the report caught his eye. He checked the officer's nametag—Lassiter—then plucked the paper right out of the cop's hand.

            "What the—? HEY!"

Shawn ignored the officer's protest. He was too busy looking at the evidence write-up from a recent robbery. He quickly scanned the page before handing it back and grabbing the second page.

            "It was the owner. Insurance fraud." He put the paper down and walked out of the station, chuckling as he heard the officer exclaim, "I'll be damned! It _was_ the owner!"

\-----------------------------------

            "Shawn I'm not asking you to do anything hard! I'm asking you to clean up after yourself. Your room is a pig sty."

            "It's organized how I want it. Ask me where anything is and I can find it."

            "Nice try kid. Any other teenager could get away with that, not you buddy."

            "I'm not ten anymore. Don't call me buddy! It's embarrassing."

            "Don't change the subject Shawn! You don't want to go through life shirking your responsibilities do you?"

            "Is that a trick question?"

            "That's it! Go to your room!"

            "Make me!"

            Henry watched as Shawn grabbed his jacket and stormed out the door. It was almost a nightly occurrence now. Nothing he did worked anymore. He'd tried bargaining, yelling, more yelling and then ignoring, but nothing seemed to get through Shawn's temper.

            Last week he'd had to leave in the middle of a date because he'd gotten a call that Shawn was out after curfew. He should call Joan and apologize, but his son came first, even if it was gearing up to be a _really_ good date.

            After trying so hard, Henry figured if it wasn't him, there had to be something up with Shawn. _What's wrong with you kid?_ He asked himself the same question every time a perfectly civil conversation ended in screaming.

            He looked at his watch. It was his turn to pull the night shift. That meant he had to be to work in a half hour. When all the trouble started, he'd vowed not to let it affect his work and so far it hadn't. Tonight wouldn't be any different. He'd go to work like nothing happened, do his best, and if Shawn wanted to act like a jerk, so be it. He'd been walking on eggshells with his son for too long.

\---------------------------

            Three blocks away from his house, Shawn stopped and threw himself down in the sand, staring up at the sky. "Why won't he just lay off! God!" He squeezed some moist sand in his hand until his knuckles turned white then he chucked it into the ocean and flopped back down closing his eyes.

            "Hey there." A feminine voice from above him greeted.

            Shawn opened his eyes and unintentionally stared up a girl's skirt. He rolled over and got to his feet, blushing the entire time. "Sorry, you snuck up on me." He got a better look at her in the fading light. "Hey, I know you. We used to be in the same grade." He remembered her as a shy bookworm who was in his original class before he skipped a grade. She'd be a senior right now.

            She didn't look anything like a bookworm now. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun with the rest trailing down in multi-colored braids, and she wore dark make up, making her pale skin look even paler. "Lacey, you uh... you look good." Shawn managed to get out. _She looks fantastic_.

            Smiling, Lacey moved closer to him. "I saw you sitting here all alone and I figured I'd let you know there's a party going on a few blocks away." She gave him a sultry smile. "If you care to join me."

            "Join you?" Shawn's voice squeaked. He never got invited to parties. Ever. Not only that, but his father would kill him if he ever found out. "Yes." Shawn said before he could chicken out. "Yeah I'll go."

            Lacy let out a laugh and smiled brightly, or as brightly as a Goth can smile. "Oh it will be so much fun! You know, I always liked you Shawn..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! Oh Shawn, really does have a soft spot for the ladies.


	15. Besotted, Betrayed, and Behind Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE:
> 
> I posted chapters 9-15 all at once so please check to make sure you read those before reading the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, this is it. The big blow up, the fight to end all fights.
> 
> I made it EXTRA long and epic and it answers a lot of questions I purposefully left for the end. If you haven't read the first story Born This Way, you may be a little lost about a section, but I tried to clarify it a bit for those who haven't. 
> 
> For those who have... :D Enjoy a bit of reveal and a whole lot of angry Shawn.
> 
> WARNING: There is a description of a ghastly crime scene. Just a warning to weak stomached people.

**Santa Barbara** **, October 1995-**

 

        Shawn was a bit hesitant to follow Lacy as she led him down the beach about half a mile before cutting into one of the more posh neighborhoods that Shawn didn’t know very well. “Uh, where exactly is this party?”

            She gave a cryptic smile. “A friend’s house.”

            He dropped the subject—nervous but not wanting to seem uncool. He’d _never_ officially been invited to a party before. There were a couple of opportunities, but Gus had been the one invited. He would have just been the best friend tag along. Not really into being the “plus one,” he had opted to stay home.

            Up ahead he could already hear the music going. _This looks like it’s going to be big._

            His instincts were proven correct as they ended up on the doorstep of a nice house where the party was currently in full swing. “I was heading here when I saw you.” Lacy gave him a sultry look. “Lucky me.”

            It wasn’t often he got uncomfortable from having too much attention, but this seemed to be happening a little too fast and loose. He kept wondering if there was a bucket of pig's blood ready to drop on him a la _Carrie_.

            A girl dressed in a skimpy cocktail dress answered the door. She must have recognized Lacy, greeting her before turning her hungry eyes on him. “Don’t I know you?”

            Lacy pulled him close. “He’s with me.” She gave the other girl a smile and dragged him into the house.

            His eyes swept the room. Thirty people within visual range, probably more in other parts of the house or out back. The place looked like a wrecking crew had come through—totally trashed, as were some of the guests. _How can kids get away with this?_ He already knew the answer though. Not all kids had Henry Spencer for a dad and some kids' parents were blissfully unaware that their children acted like animals when they were away.

            His goth date saw his hesitation and pulled on his arm a little harder. “C’mon! All the fun happens in the living room.”

            “Yeah, sure. Fun.” He followed her into the large living area and saw a bunch of kids sitting in a circle laughing and passing around some tequila. As they approached, the circle made some room for them and Lacy sat down, dragging him with her.

            “Hey guys, this is Shawn.”

            He raised a hand in greeting. “Hey.” Everyone seemed to be dressed a little more “party-ish” than he was, but it wasn’t like he was thinking much about his wardrobe when he stormed out of the house.

            "Shawn!" He recognized one of the girls on the other side. She was on the volleyball team the year before when he’d been assistant coach. They never made it to state, but they’d done pretty well overall. “How’ve you been? You graduated already right?”

            Shawn nodded and tried to play it cool, “Yeah, ditched school a year early and spent the summer traveling.”

            One of the other guys piped in, “Dude that is awesome! I would love to have gotten out of school a year early.” Others nodded in agreement.

            After that, he was immediately accepted into the group and soon he was holding the Tequila. He looked at it with concern, knowing how easily and how often drugs ended up slipped into stuff like this.

            Lacy noticed his hesitation. “What’s the matter? Never drank before?”

            “Once. It didn’t end well.”

            A few snickers sounded around the circle. He hated that sound. Ridicule and rejection. If he didn't go along, he wasn't one of them. He was just different. Accepting the dare, he held the bottle to his mouth, tipped his head back, and took three big chugs before the liquid flames reached his brain.

            “Gah.” He lowered the bottle and grimaced, riding out the sensation of a million little pins tumbling down to his gullet. Once he’d waited out the pain, everything went fuzzy and the cheers from the group and pats on the back made him smile.

            He spent an hour there with Lacy on his arm the entire time, finally letting loose and just hanging out. It was actually pretty fun for him and he ended up telling a few of his own jokes, sending the room into hysterical laughter when he told them about the time he’d sent home made crash test dummies off his roof.

            Eventually, the party wound down. Most of the kids gravitated into the living room and their little circle became a big one. “Okay, okay! Everybody!” A skinny red-haired girl clapped her hands and tried to get everyone’s attention. Getting drunken teenagers to focus was like herding cats, but eventually everyone quieted down and listened. “It’s time to play ‘Truth or Dare.’”

\------------------------------

            Henry sighed and looked at the clock. It was almost midnight and he wasn't even half-way through his shift. He hated nights. If it was quiet, it was too quiet. If there was ever any action, it was never good. No old ladies coming in saying their neighbor was playing their music too loud, no parents bringing in their children to meet some _real_ heroes at the police station. At night, it was always, _always,_ something extremely bad or very complicated. Often times, both.

            Tonight was no different. When his partner for the night, Ray Matthews, walked to his desk, looking more worried than he could ever remember, the hair on the back of his neck came to full attention. This could not be good.

            "Henry, we just got a call from someone on San Miguel Avenue. They're reporting a couple of teenagers stealing one of their cars. A cherry red 1962 Chevy Corvair."

            "Well it is a weekend Ray. We get these things all the time." _At least this is going to be an easy one._ Ray's expression didn't change, Henry became concerned that his partner wasn't telling him everything. "Is there something else?"

            "The owner got a good look at the kids who did it." He took out the report and read from it, deliberately avoiding direct eye contact. "A boy and a girl, between the age of sixteen and eighteen."

            He started to get that feeling that parents get when something happens to kids similar ages to theirs. That irrational fear that it could be _their_ kid. Unfortunately for him, it usually _was_ his kid.

            "The girl was in dark clothing with long dark hair. The boy was seen jacking the vehicle's door locks before the two got in. He has near shoulder length brown hair, and was wearing a denim button up shirt over a long white sleeve t-shirt."

            Henry clenched his teeth, instantly remembering what his son was wearing when he stormed out. A fake denim shirt over a long sleeved white shirt bearing the insignia of his favorite football team. Still, there was still a chance it wasn't his son, _A lot of people are wearing denim nowadays._

            Ray paled at his mounting rage, reluctant to continue the report. "Uh, the owner of the vehicle also overheard the boy say," He looked at the paper again, "this is _so_ _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_."

            That tore it. His son, John Hughes fan that he was, would never miss an opportunity to compare something like stealing a car to an eighties teen flick. He spun around and grabbed his black jacket. "Let's go."

            He saw that half the station was watching them leave, having heard the conversation. _Let them stare._ Tonight, he'd probably have to do the hardest thing he'd ever done in his entire life. He was going to have to arrest his son.

\---------------------------------

            _Best night everrrrr!_ In the middle of Lacy's onslaught of mind-blowing kisses that was the only thought his brain could process. Apparently, stealing cars was a huge turn-on for beautiful girls. He laughed and dove for another kiss, his lips were no doubt being stained by her red lipstick, but he'd wear it like a badge of honor. The cold evening outside and their heated activities inside the car were causing the windows to fog up. Just as well. More privacy that way.

            Part of him knew what he was doing was wrong, but that part had been silenced two or three shots of Tequila ago. The only thing he was thinking about at that moment was the beautiful girl right in front of him who actually seemed to _like_ him.

            "Maybe we should get back to the party," Lacy murmured between lip-locks. "I'll let them know you did the dare. How did you know how to hotwire a car anyway?"

            He leaned back and gave a breathy laugh. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but a cop taught me."

            "That's so hot." Lacy pulled him into another deep kiss.

            With the distraction, Shawn almost missed seeing the light from a nearby car door opening. They were on a deserted road, not to mention it was probably past midnight by now. There really shouldn't have been anyone coming anywhere near them. By the time his inebriated brain had time to react to that fact, a flashlight was shining in the window. He saw Lacy's eyes widen and then she shoved him back against the driver's seat as the car door opened. He turned his head to see his worst nightmare revealed. His dad.

            "Whoops..."

\-----------------------------

            "What am I going to tell your mother?" Henry was livid. Shawn had wasted years of training and hard work for a joyride and a girl. Henry knew his son would be lucky if the judge didn't give him a felony charge for this. Not to mention he was driving drunk. _Is the kid suicidal too?_

            Shawn's sarcasm hadn't waned, despite being so inebriated he could barely stand. "I dunno, you think you can get a hold of her new phone number?"

            That one hurt. Maddie hadn't called either of them since she left a couple weeks before so neither really had any idea how to call her besides her business number, which wasn't the most time effective way to get a message to her. Henry glared at his son and changed the topic back to the one at hand.

            "I hope it was worth it smart-ass, this officially ends your chance of being a cop." Even if Shawn didn't get a felony, which he probably would, no station would hire someone who had committed grand theft auto.

            "Let's be honest," Shawn gave him a smirk, "I gave up wanting to be like you a long time ago."

            Henry couldn't take it anymore. His kid had ruined his life with this one stupid, selfish act. "That's it! Somebody book him!" He looked around for _anyone_ with a badge and his gaze fell on the suck up rookie the chief had tried to introduce to him. He was currently chatting up the receptionist. "You! Beanpole!" Henry pointed at him, "Get over here, fingerprint him now!"

            "I'm sorry. . ." The officer looked at him like a deer in headlights and sputtered a bit as Shawn waggled his fingers at the man. "Me?"

            Henry gave up. "Never mind rookie, I'll do it myself!" He growled and pushed Shawn down the stairs in the direction of processing.

            Shawn continued his smart-aleck comments all the way to the fingerprinting station.

            "You have the right to remain _silent._ " Henry stressed the word hoping his son wouldn't do anything else incriminating. He continued reciting Miranda and ignored Shawn's sarcastic mouthing them in sync.

            The girl he'd brought in with Shawn sat across the room, laughing as she talked to Ray. He didn't want anyone exacerbating the situation with his son. "Ray, please get her out of here for now."

            Ray nodded and gently led Lacy away. Shawn winked and made a phone-dialing gesture, yelling after her. "Call me! My new number for the next couple of days is gonna be 911. Ask for Shawn!"

            Henry grabbed his son's hand and started to fingerprint him. If Shawn wanted to be a criminal, then by God, he was going to know _exactly_ how it felt to be treated like one.

            "Hey!" Shawn exclaimed, pulling his hand away. "Don't I get a phone call?"

            "Who would you call, Shawn?"         

"Why do you care who I would call? I get a phone call." Shawn raised his eyebrows and waited.

            Growling, he took his son over to the phone booth next to the processing area. He was morbidly curious as to who Shawn would call, especially since it was after midnight.

            Whomever this mystery person was he had called was not picking up right away. Shawn started to look nervous. Finally, someone must have answered, but he couldn't identify the voice.

"Hold on a sec." Shawn pulled the receiver away, covering it with his hand, and looked at him. "Do you _mind_?" His son turned away and whispered into the receiver again before hanging up.

            "Who did you call, Shawn?" The goofy façade fell away. He should have known Shawn would react like this, but the intensity of his son's bitterness still surprised him.

"You gave up the right to know that the moment you arrested me, _Henry._ Don't talk to me like you're my Dad, because you _aren't_ my Dad. You’re just my arresting officer. Now take me to my cell, _detective_."

\--------------------------------------------

            Shawn sat on his cot, drumming his fingers on his legs impatiently. He'd been locked up in this cell for almost two days and Henry still refused to post his bail. It was a good thing a few of the cops were friends with his mom and let him know they were able to get a hold of her. She would be sending the bail money anytime now. Six thousand dollars seemed a bit much, but from he heard the others say, he was getting off easy for what he’d done.

            He was really beginning to regret fighting with his dad. It was a stupid argument to have. It wasn't the fact that he didn't want to clean his room, he just didn't want to clean it _that_ day or right at _that_ moment. It was really all about the day two years ago when his mother finally decided she'd had enough of his dad and had taken off. Now she'd left him with Henry again, and it dredged up the whole mess and all the bad feelings that went with it. He just wanted to be left alone to stew and wallow in those feelings, not clean up his room.

            Of course, Henry wouldn't even give him that. To make matters worse, Lacy hadn't called him. He must have burned that bridge well and good. He'd probably see her in court though.

            The chief had visited him. They didn't talk much, but Fenich did say that he was sorry that Henry had to be the one to arrest him. The chief meant well but he returned the kindness with an icy reply. _"There were sixteen other officers in the station. He didn't have to arrest me. He wanted to."_ He'd counted how many officers were in the precinct when he'd been brought in. Even drunk, he had still been on top of his game.

            Out of all the things his father had done to him in his life, this was probably the worst. Even the very long list of borderline child abuse trainings that he'd had to put up with weren't _this_ contemptible. He'd never forgive Henry for this. _Ever._

            "Shawn Spencer." One of the uniformed officers addressed him from the other side of the bars. "Your bail has been posted."

            He perked up. Being stuck in one place for so long was killing him. He bounded off the cot and signed the papers the officer handed to him before taking off towards the doors as fast as he could. He didn't want the chance of running into Henry before he’d set his plan in motion.

            His father should have known better than to give him two whole days to plan, even though he knew what he was going to do before the arrest and thrown in the back of the cruiser. He’d used his one phone call to keep his promise to Gus that if he ever decided to take off for good, Gus would be the first to know.

            Luck must be with him because he didn't see Henry on the way out. He quickly made the three-mile trek to the house as he plotted his escape. He couldn’t leave town before the trial—that wouldn't happen for another couple of weeks, so he had to stick around. There was no way he would live with Henry after what he did, so he would pack up everything he could and find a hotel. He had some money in the “college fund” his parents set up for him. He'd added some more from the random jobs he’d taken in the last couple years, so he’d be able to afford a room for a while.

            He would have to call his mom as soon as possible to let her know what happened. She’d be mad at him, but at least she wouldn’t ruin his life over it, like _some_ people.

            The driveway was empty when he got back to the house. He used the hidden key in the garage to get in. He didn’t have much time before his dad found out that he'd been released so he’d have to really hurry.

            He went straight to his bedroom and grabbed some clothes, stuffing as much as he could into his backpack. He also grabbed a picture of his mom from the nightstand and his jacket before taking one last good look at his room. Passing the kitchen on his way out, he grabbed some food out of the fridge. The meals at the jail had been terrible and in spite of getting a candy bar or two passed to him from the friendlier officers, he was starving.

            Entering the living room, he headed for the door only to be stopped in his tracks by a voice from the vicinity of the couch. “Going somewhere Shawn?”

            He choked on the cold chicken leg he had been eating and spun around to face his father. The man had apparently been there the whole time, watching him. “You can’t stop me.”

            “Oh, I think I can, sport. You’re still under age _and_ living in my house.” Henry rose and approached his son. “Now get back upstairs. We have a lot to talk about.”

            He stood his ground. “How could you do it? How could you just leave me there?”

            Henry’s eyes narrowed. “You screwed up big time kid, now you have to take responsibility and be a man.”

            "Be a man. _Be a man?_ What does that even mean? You talk about responsibility and discipline, but what you really want is _control._ You have wanted to control me my whole life. Well guess what? I can't be Mr. Perfect twenty-four seven!" He screamed at his father.

            "I never expected you to be perfect Shawn—" Henry began.

            He interrupted him, roaring. "Since when?! Since I was born, you've needed me to be _perfect_. Maybe if you were more of a _man_ and less of a dick, mom wouldn’t have left and none of this would have happened!” Henry advanced but he didn't back down. “You projected your impossible standards on me over and over again." He clenched his fists at his sides. "And what is _sick_ is I used to love the attention, because it was the only time I got it! I was so used to being ignored I thought it was normal. Then suddenly, like magic," Shawn waved his hands in Henry's face. "You found me interesting. I became nothing but a project, a mission for the great Henry Spencer!”

            Henry swatted Shawn’s hands away, “It wasn’t _like_ that Shawn!”

            Not believing his father Shawn continued his rant. “Oh? What was it like Mr. Perfect? Have I ever really just been your son? Someone to be proud of because of _who_ I am and not just what I can do? If I didn't know better I would think someone finally clued you in. I’ll bet Gus’ left shoe that it was Mandy.” Henry’s eyes widened at the name. For some reason his father always got squirrely when he mentioned her. “She saw it years before you did, and you’re supposed to be my _DAD_."

Henry flinched at the way Shawn spat the word.

He hadn't mentioned his old babysitter for a while, not since comparing her to Abigail earlier that year. He thought about her every so often. Her nice smile, the way she always seemed to _get_ him when no one else around him did, as much as someone can get a four year old anyway. It really stuck with him, even without his perfect memory he’d have a hard time forgetting her. It had always bugged him though, that she’d left without saying goodbye. A flash of memory came to him, making him pause in the midst of his argument with his father. Lifting a finger to his head, he focused on recalling what his mind obviously wanted him to remember.

            _He was four years old. His dad was taking him to Mandy’s place as a favor to her. Someone had broken into her house and his dad had told him Mandy wanted him to help._

            _“Someone stole from her?” He asked._

_His father nodded, “Yes, Shawn. They also threw a bunch of ketchup around the house.”_

            “Ketchup?” He said the word aloud. At the time, he’d accepted his father's explanation without question and had gone into the house, worried at how angry Mandy would be that someone ruined her carpet with ketchup. But now, through the prism of younger eyes with thirteen more years of police training, he finally saw the crime scene for what it really was.

            _The smell had been horrible. It had probably been weeks since the murder had happened, and with the amount of blood on the floor there is no way it could have been anything else. It explained why his father kept putting off visiting Mandy when Shawn kept asking. She’d already been dead._

_The large bloodstain in the middle of the play area was the most obvious aspect of the crime scene but it was the splatters on the walls that made Shawn think that the murder weapon had been a knife. The stabbing motion flicked blood in all directions like some kind of grizzly new aged painting._

_The larger bloodstain wasn’t just a single stain, there were drag marks which meant she’d fought, or had still been alive when the killer had left._

_He’d headed into the kitchen then, immediately noticing a boot print on the otherwise clean linoleum floor. It seemed the blood had mostly been confined to the living room. The boot print didn’t seem important at the time, his young mind had dismissed it as someone merely missing the rug with a muddy boot. It had been more than that though, and his dad’s reaction spoke volumes. The perp had taken the time to take off his boots. This said he was a friend, or at least an acquaintance._

_Moving on while his dad studied the print, Shawn saw the bombshell evidence. Fingerprints in blood under the counter. The perp had gotten his shoes back on while gripping the counter, after the murder. His observation had broken the case wide open._

Putting the pieces together now, thirteen years later, he could almost see the crime happening before his eyes. Someone Mandy knew had visited her. She had invited them inside, and then they had gotten into a confrontation. The man must have already had the knife and had been planning to do _something_ to Mandy. Maybe not kill her, but at least take advantage of her. Then it turned ugly. Knowing his babysitter, she would have struggled and fought. That’s when the man stabbed her, over and over.

            After that, the killer must have panicked, gone into the kitchen, gripped the counter as he put on his shoes on, and left. Shawn figured the cops must have missed the prints or they would have found the murderer before his father had brought him to the scene, which could only mean that his dad had brought him to an active crime scene to see if he could solve it.

            He opened his eyes and lowered his hand. The truth of his memory was confirmed by the guilty and desperate look on his father’s face. For years he’d lied and hidden the truth to cover up his own mistakes while pressuring Shawn to the point of exhaustion. Until that moment, Shawn had no idea how obsessed his father really was. It wasn’t just with Mandy. Henry had used him for his own purposes his whole life, over and over again, consequences and feelings be damned.

            Pushing down the bile that was threatening to come up he sputtered, "You—you sick—" Unable to find the right words, he balled his fist and smashed it into his father's jaw.

            Henry should have seen the punch coming as soon as his son said the word ketchup. To anyone else, the word meant nothing, seemingly random, but he knew better. Shawn had remembered what he had done in a desperate and stupid move to solve a crime that had been _very_ personal.

            He knew he’d made a bigmistake bringing Shawn to that bloody crime scene. To protect his son from the truth, he'd told him that, like his bunny rabbits, Chairman Meow, and all Shawn’s other pets, Mandy was happily living abroad.

            “Aaaaah!” Henry gripped his jaw.

            Shawn sneered, showing absolutely no remorse. “There, now you can arrest me for assault too.”

            Henry backed up, using his police training to put another hand between Shawn and himself just in case his son wasn’t done. No more blows came though, and Shawn simply bent over, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the house without another word. “Shawn!” Henry stumbled over to the door after him. “Get back here! _Shawn!_ ”

            His son didn’t turn around.

            Henry went back in the house, slamming the door. “Damn it Shawn!” The yelling worsened the pain in his jaw. He had to make sure the kid didn’t run though, it would be so much worse if he did.

            He grabbed his keys, ready to go track Shawn down, when his phone rang. “Spencer.” He answered, while getting his coat on.

            “Henry, it’s John.” Chief Fenich sounded very concerned, but Henry didn’t have time to chat.

            “I can’t talk now. Shawn ran off again, I have to go get him.”

            “I need you to come to the station. I have to talk to you about something.”

            “I’ll be there as soon as I get Shawn—"

            “ _Now_ , Henry. That’s an order, detective.” Fenich didn’t sound happy with him at all.

            Taken aback at the harsh tone, he decided to obey and hope Shawn didn’t get too much of a head start. “I’ll be there in ten.”

\------------------------------

            Fenich was waiting for him as soon as he got to the station. He was crazy with worry over his son and the consequences of his actions. What could the chief possibly want that he had to be there _right now_?!

            “Spencer. Come with me.” Fenich ordered.

            “Chief, I really have to—”

            Frowning at him, Fenich snapped. “Quiet, detective. Just follow and listen.”

            Henry fought to curb his tongue and keep his cool, not to mention his job, so he did as he was told.

            They both walked to Fenich's office. “Sit down.”

He sat and accepted a thick packet that the chief handed to him.

One look at the cover told him its contents—a completed DET exam. As he flipped through the pages, he noticed that all the answers had been marked correctly. Every single one of them.

            “This is the DET answer key. Why are you handing me this now?” He threw down the packet, thoroughly frustrated. “My son could be leaving town John! I don’t have time for this!”

            “That is _not_ the answer key, Henry.” Fenich slid the test back towards him.

            “Someone aced the test?” Curiosity blocked out his anger and he took the packet again. “Was it that rookie officer you tried to introduce me to?”

            Fenich shook his head.

            He got past the multiple-choice section to the essay questions. He recognized the handwriting immediately. “This is _Shawn’s_?” He asked, incredulous. _Shawn never took the DET. He’s too young!_ “When was this given?”

            Fenich leaned over and took it away from him, regarding it sadly. “I gave it to him a couple years ago. I saw how much training you’d been giving him and I think he wanted to see if he could do it as much as I did.”

            Any pride he might have felt was completely overshadowed by guilt and anger. “Why didn’t he tell me?” He didn’t know if he’d posed the question more to himself than to the chief.

            “I’m sure he had his reasons Henry, but the reason _I_ showed you this was to get you to stop.”

            “Get me to stop? Stop what?”

            “You are about to go chasing down your son. The son you just arrested and put through the ringer.”

He opened his mouth to tell the chief it was none of his damn business how he raised his son but he was cut off with a sharp look.

“I don’t deny the boy did wrong Henry. I showed you this to prove to you that Shawn knows the consequences if he runs. Hell, he knows it better than both of us!”

            He shook his head, still not able to believe the score. At fifteen, no less.

            “Look Henry, I know you want to go after him, but it’s pretty obvious Shawn knows not to leave town. So, as a friend, I’m telling you to back off and you might not lose your kid forever, if you haven’t already. Lord knows we just lost the best detective this station would have ever seen.” At that, Fenich dropped the test in the trash and walked out of the office.

            Henry closed his eyes and put his head in his hands. He’d messed up and once again let his anger cloud his better judgment when it came to family, and had put his career first. After all the training and tests, Shawn _was_ a good detective, but Henry had refused to see or acknowledge it. _Maybe_ I’m _the bad detective. Maybe_ I’m _not cut out for this anymore if all I can see is how many hats are in a room but not see my own son right in front of my face. . ._

            Something else in the garbage caught his eye. Looking around, Henry grabbed the two stapled pieces of paper and read the first page.

            “To the Officer in Charge of Recommendations for Officer Training in regards to Shawn Henry Spencer.”

            The letter was signed John Fenich, Chief, Santa Barbara Police Department.

            Henry let the pages fall to the floor, “Oh God, what have I done?”

\-------------------------------

**Claremont** **, California** **: December 1995-**

            Gus rested his head on his arm while sitting at his dorm room desk. Only for a second though. He had a lot more studying to do this weekend because next Monday marked the start of finals week at Pomona College. After that, it was going home for Christmas. The whole family would be there and he was super excited. He always looked forward to Christmastime at home with his family.

            He must have been resting longer than he'd planned because the next thing he knew, there was a knocking at his window. Grabbing his Biology book, the biggest one he could find, and wielding it in front of him, he carefully walked up to the window and looked out. All he saw was darkness, which wasn’t all that weird because it _was_ after ten p.m.

            Suddenly a face appeared in the window. He screamed and backed away, tripping over another stack of books he'd left in the middle of the floor.

            “Dude, relax!” A muffled voice spoke to him from the other side of the glass.

            Looking up, he saw Shawn’s head poking just above the windowsill. “Shawn! What the hell were you thinking? You could have given me a coronary!”

            “A little help here, please?!” Shawn’s head bobbed lower and Gus remembered that his dorm room was on the third floor.

            He jumped forward and opened the window, giving Shawn a better grip to pull himself up. “Why didn’t you take the stairs?”

            Shawn ignored the question until he was halfway in with one leg in and one leg still hanging out of the window. “The guard wouldn’t let me through because I wasn’t on any visitor’s list, _and_ he wouldn’t let me call. I tell you, this place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox.” He finished climbing into the room and looked around.

            “I didn’t add you because I didn’t think you’d ever come and visit me.” He honestly never thought Shawn would come, especially with what had been going on with his dad lately.

            "You look different." Shawn cocked his head and scrutinized Gus' appearance.

            Over the past six months he'd started to let his hair grow out and was going for a "high top" look. Gus figured it was time for a change. _At least Shawn isn't making fun of my clothes."_

            "Nice sweater vest."

            _Okay, so much for that._ Gus rolled his eyes and gestured for Shawn to sit in one of the chairs.

            His friend gladly accepted and seemed to slump down wearily as soon as his butt hit the cushion. Gus wondered how Shawn was faring after the fall out.

            Shawn at picked the fuzzes on the chair and answered the question Gus had been thinking but hadn't asked. “So, they had my trial last week.”

            Gus sat down next to him figuring his friend needed a bit of moral support.

            Two months ago, Shawn called him out of the blue and told him that he’d been arrested by his dad for stealing a car. Gus was about to tear him a new one for being so stupid, but what Shawn had told him next made him stop.

            _“I’m leaving, and I promised you that you’d be the first to know.”_

            He knew Shawn had meant it because with something as serious as this, Shawn knew when to stop the act. “So, what happened? I take it by you being here you didn’t get any jail time.”

            Shawn shook his head. “No jail time. I plea-bargained down to ‘joyriding’ since I didn’t have any priors, they considered it a third degree misdemeanor. No jail, just a fine, and a _ton_ of community service. Two years’ probation too.” Shawn grabbed Gus’ pillow and hugged it close. “The chief spoke on my behalf as a character witness. Really put himself out there for me.”

            “That was cool of him. I always liked that guy.” Gus waited for Shawn to continue, to maybe say that his dad had vouched for him too, but Shawn stayed silent. “So, what are you going to do now?”

            “Well, I’ve already done a bit. Paid the fine, which was actually less than my bail, so I gave my mom some of the money back for that. I used my college fund to pay the rest back too. I didn’t want her to literally pay for my mistakes, you know?”

            Gus pursed his lips. Shawn always thought of a way to have _him_ pay for his mistakes. Literally. But this was about Shawn's mom, so he kept quiet about that part, but dipping into his college fund was another matter entirely. “Shawn, you need that money for school. I’m sure your mom understands that.”

            Shawn sighed. “I need some time, man. I don’t think I’ll be going to college for a while.” Gus saw a spark in Shawn’s eyes, “I want to get out there. See the world, do stuff.”

            Gus could see where that would seem fun, but he’d always been too cautious of a person to really think about it. He had responsibilities and obligations to other people. “So you’re really leaving?”

            His friend nodded. “I figured I’d be getting community service so I started about a month ago and they let me count it towards what I had to do. I’m only about a week away from being done already.”

            “Wow, that was fast.”

            “Yeah…” Shawn trailed off. Gus realized that he was probably trying to pump himself up for the real reason he came climbing into his dorm room in the middle of the night. “So, Christmas is next week and I don’t know if I’m going to be around for it. I was wondering if you wanted to take a trip with me.”

            Gus blanched. “A trip? Shawn, I have finals next week. I’ve already been up studying for hours—”

            “Great! That mean's you've already studied!” Shawn exclaimed. “Now you can totally come with me!” He grabbed Gus and started pulling him towards the window.

            Slipping out of Shawn’s grip Gus backed up. “There is a perfectly good door over there Shawn. I’m not going out the window.”

            “Guuusss! I’m not taking you out the window. I’m trying to show you something.” Shawn pointed out the window and down.

            Trying to recover from his semi-foolish reaction, he looked out the window and saw what Shawn was trying to show him. In the light of a street lamp Gus could see an older looking, beat up black motorcycle. At least he thought it was black. He could barely see but it looked like there was more rust on it than paint. “You _bought_ that?”

            "Yeah!" Shawn beamed

            Gus' eyes narrowed, "Paid _money_ for it?"

            Shawn looked at the rust bucket with pride. "Isn’t it sweet? I’m going to see if I can restore it. The engine runs great, the body just needs some work.” Shawn pulled on his long stringy hair. “I think I need a haircut though. The helmet keeps putting my bangs in my face.”

            Gus glared at Shawn, wondering what kind of scheme he was cooking up now. “And where exactly do you think we’re going?”

            Putting a finger to his lips, Shawn looked contemplative for a moment, as if he hadn’t already planned out everything before even showing up. “Hhmmmm. I dunno. How do you feel about Mexico?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super sad this is over. I have been writing the series for more a year! I can't believe it.
> 
> Thanks everyone for all the support, views and reviews you gave on this story. I really poured my energy into these ones and wanted to get it just right.


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